mMm 


Mu 
\Wi 
]*h - 

[mu 


'*i* i 

if-'-, r 
Ju !r 




y • f "J. tftZ-SJSSftJS* :■ ft* •'• 

• ffj A ilft A I Wi x r i 

*" f" * ? k *■£ f ■'* f i' £i *’- 








Mmmmv. 




t’MVA 


t , r i . t 




^ is rift 


tiPiSX&l 


tiJ'rl 




■'/.'? j ; ' i t d r {‘t * 


mm 


■iA’i i*.‘'*h xSkJfiysJJy* k %. H .uy:i u r'if\ 

•r 1 •■/ *: *•: ♦’••• - '•;.••? .. -•; -X -? *•; f r. . r;.-';.- <l- 

iy - : ' , c. ; 

* • •• » • ■ • I ■ •• - » 1 i. ■' " • ■ • .. i- •• , • « . — .«•*• 

a AVi St 




p-.-ij 


fih-zsl&nir 




. . ■- -Yiyr ■*?*■*•■ •. ■•■■• • •■ ■ • ; 


































































































Pass ~^Q C> / 
Book • 3 *3 


By bequest of 

William Lukens Shoemaker 























■ 














































* 


























4 

















\ 










H O M E-L I F E 


IN GEE M A N Y. 


BY 

CHARLES L0RIN6 £RACE, 

AUTHOB OF “ HUNGAEY IN 1861 .” 


“We want a history of firesides.”—W ebbies. 



NEW YORK: 

CHARLES SCRIBNER, 124 GRAND STREET. 


M DCOO LX. 


... ■ - . ■ - ■ ■■■ - - - - ■ . I ■ ■' 

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1853 by 
CHARLES SCRIBNER, 

In the Clerk’s Office of the District Court for the Southern Distr' A *4 New York. 


•tfi. 

W. L, Shoemaker 







PREFACE. 


There are very many things we want to know about 
foreign countries, which we never do know from books. 

^ What people eat and what they drink, how they amuse 
themselves, what their habits are at home, what furniture 
they have, how their houses look, and above all, what the 
usual talk and tone of thought is, among the great middle 
classes of a country—these things are interesting, and 
are very hard to learn, except from travellers them¬ 
selves. 

Webster, in almost his last great speech, said with 
reference to England, “ there is still wanting, * * *, 

“ a history which shall trace the progress of social life, in 
" the intercourse of man with man ; the advance of arts, 
<c the various changes in the habits and occupations of 
“ individuals, and improvements in domestic life. We 
H still have not the means of learning * * * how our 



iv 


PREFACE. 


“ ancestors in their houses, were fed, and lodged, and 
“ clothed, and what were their daily employments. We 
“ want a history of firesides. * * * We wish to see 

“ more, and to know more, of the changes which took 
“ place from age to age in the homes of England.” * * 

Of course, what I have given in this volume of the 
“ Home-Life of Germany,” can only be a suggestion for 
such a History of the Germans. My observations are 
merely the glimpses of a traveller, welcomed intimately 
in the homes of North and Middle Germany, during 
parts of two years. To the German, they will seem often 
suj>erficial; still, they may be valuable hereafter, as the 
impressions of a stranger upon a subject of which so little 
is usually written or known—the internal social habits 
and thought of a leading civilized Nation. It will be 
seen that my facts and experiences are mostly gained 
from association with the middle classes. These—the 
men of business, the farmers, the merchants, the lawyers 
and scholars—are the influential portion of a People, who 
stamp especially its social character. It is their habits 
and manners we mean, when we speak of the social life 
of the Germans. 

In view of this plan, I shall be pardoned if I have 

cut” entirely guide-books, and the usual objects of 
interest to the tourist. 

No one can understand even the modern domestic life 
of Germany, without knowing something of its Past. 
With intelligent men of foreign countries, there is usually 



PREFACE. 


V 


the utmost vagueness of idea as to what Germany is, or 
what it has been ; or what changes have brought it to its 
present form. I have accordingly devoted several chap¬ 
ters to Political and Theological History, as indispensable 
to a right understanding of my subject. 

I have tried to give a true picture of German Home- 
Life, and all will, of course, draw their own conclusions. 
But I do not hesitate to confess that a definite purpose 
has been before me. It has seemed to me that in this 
universal greed for money, in this clangor and whirl 
of American life, in the wasteful habits everywhere 
growing up, and in the little heed given to quiet home 
enjoyment, or to the pleasures from Art and Beauty, a 
voice from those calm, genial old German homes, might 
be of good to us ;—telling of a more simple, economical 
habit, of sunny and friendly hospitalities, of quiet cultured 
tastes, and of a Home-Life, whose affection and cheer¬ 
fulness make the outside "World as nothing in the 
comparison. 

On but one subject, do I hesitate much at my conclu¬ 
sions. I earnestly wish they may be proved incorrect. 
I mean my remarks upon the German religious character. 
On those solemn and mysterious relations which bind 
man with his Maker, I would be the last to speak 
dogmatically. The expression of the religious Principle 
is not to be limited by any local or partial measure. 

Still, the observations, sad as they are, which I have 



VI 


PREEACE. 


stated, seemed to me true of the masses of the people. 
Our hope is, however, for Germany, that the darkest time 
of Unbelief has past, and that a day of purer Faith and 
Reason is dawning. 

Charles Boring Brace. 


New York, March , 1853. 



CONTENTS 


PAGE. 

CHAPTER I.— From Leith to Hamburg. —Meeting with a German gentleman— 
Roughing it in the second cabin—Talk about German economy—The firemen— 
Storm—The port of Hamburg,. 13 

CHAPTER II.— Hamburg. —The great fire—Style of building—Supper with a 
friend—Introduction to a German home—Furniture—Simplicity—Arrangement 
of rooms—The beds—Mr. Lindley; his works—A country-seat—Lunch— 
Dishes—Table-talk—Dinner conversation—“Inner Mission”— Mr. Wichern, 19 

CHAPTER III.— Social Life. —German habits—Meals—Courses—Wine-drink¬ 
ing—Impressions of America—A dinner—Talk between a clergyman and a 
sceptic—Discussion on a State-church,. 82 

CHAPTER 1Y.—A German Lady. —Miss Sieveking; her benevolent efforts—An 
interview—Blunderings—Her good sense—Ideas of women's sphere—Institu¬ 
tions she had started—Heroism—Her appeal to the German women,. 89 

CHAPTER Y.— Excursion to the Duchies. —A rail-road station—Eating—The 
rooms—The cars—Smoking forbidden —Peasants—Their politeness—A foot 
again—My walk—The scenery—Low German—A visit to a country house— 

The welcome,. 43-56 

CHAPTER YI.—A Holstein Farm. —The house—The grounds—Farming—Drain¬ 
ing—Horses—Peasants’ cottages—Singular style—Number of peasants—Their 
education—Laws on Religion—Holstein scenery—Mode of life—Manners- 
Silent “ grace ”—Hospitality—The Father—Conversation about the War,. 51 








Vlll 


CONTENTS. 


PAGB 

CHAPTER YII.—The Camps.—J ourney—E utin—A n inn—A political meeting— 
Extempore speaking—German Sociality—K iel—M iddle Holstein—Rends- 
burgh—The approach—“ Panoramas” of the War—English officers—A pleasant 
evening—Walk to the camps—The army—Visit to a lieutenant—The position— 
Fortifications—Student-soldiers—Their quarters—Supper—Return by night,... 66 

CHAPTER VIII.—The War of the Duchies.—O rigin—Three demands of the 
insurgents—Letter of the Danish King—Interference of the German League— 

New Constitution—Outbreak in ’48—Its results—The position of foreign govern¬ 
ments—The war not constitutional,. 78 

• 

CHAPTER IX— Hamburg. — A walk—The Spanish undertakers—Talk with a 
friend—The prosperity of the city—“ The Rough House ”■—Its formation—The 
appearance—Wichern—Elihu Burritt—An interlude—The plan of the Institu¬ 
tion—“ Groupings ”—Overseers—The children—Their homes—Occupations— 
Work-shops—The girls—The practical success—Its profit— “A Home among 
flowers,”. 88 

CHAPTER X.—A Breakfast.—D uchy of Meoklenburg—L etters of introduc¬ 
tion—Cordiality—“Morning coffee”—Talk with a Liberal—The mother’s views 
—A warm discussion—German disagreements—A Sunday—The services—mode 
of spending it—The walk—German idea of the day—An American Sabbath,... 97 

CHAPTER XI.—Berlin.—W ar—Recruiting the army—Excitement—Strength of 
Austria—Prussian claims—Real objects—Tho King—His character—Burritt’s 
peace-efforts,. 107 

CHAPTER XII—Berlin.—I ts taste—Architecture—Associations—Old Frederick 
—The statues—Tho night-march—New Museum—Its classic style—A Greek 
tragedy on the stage—Classic costumes—The acting—Its consistency—Music, 113 

CHAPTER XIII.—Life in Berlin.—M y lodgings—Landlady—German manners 
—Salutations—Politeness—Visit to a Royalist—Statuary—Tasteful furniture— 
Argument on Republicanism—Enthusiasm—Poetic theories—Friendly parting 
—A letter from a Royalist lady—Geniality,. 121 







CONTENTS. 


IX 


PAGB 

CHAPTER XIY.—A Dinner Party.— Berlin house—The wall-painting—Furni- 
turo—Conversation on the mode of life—Economy—“ Parties”—Ladies’ questions 
—American gallantry—Sociality—News from the War—German “ Punch”—The 
Prussian literati—Talk over the coffee—Degeneracy of our language—Ladies’ 
expletives —Books read—Jane Eyre—Dr. Arnold—Views of America—My de¬ 
fence,. 180 


CHAPTER XV.—TnE German Pastor.— The walk to his house—The “study” 

His parish—The number—Rationalism—Labors—Lodging-houses—Saving-soci¬ 
eties—Temperance-society—Salary—Mode of forming churches—Confirmation— 
Anecdote,. 140 

CHAPTER XVI.— Paintings.— Modern German Art—Kaulbach and Cornelius— 

“The battle of the Huns”—Berlin Museum gallery—Spiritual conceptions— 
Painters’ ideal of Christ— Disappointment in Art; its true sphere,. 15t 


CHAPTER XVII.— Dresden. —The Saxons—War—Galleries closed—Population 
and statistics of Saxony—Character of people—Evils of petty governments—Ar¬ 
tists of the city— Hesse-Cassel— Conflict between Elector and people—Inter¬ 
vention—Sad result,... 158 


CHAPTER XVIII. —Student Life. —Halle—A visit—Dr. Tholuck; his “ conversa¬ 
tion-party”—The remarks—His labors—Coffee-party with students—Lecture on 
student-life—Long talks—Radicalism—Costume—Manners to professors—A jovial 
gathering—The war-song,. 16T 

CHAPTER XIX.— Universities.— Contrast between American and German— 
Causes— Magdeburg — Hanover —The King; his rough way—An incident— 
Eights bestowed by him—The Steuerverein—Statistics of Hanover,. 176 


CHAPTER XX.— Winter Amusements.— Skating—The scene—Love of sports in 
Europe—Difference in America—Effects—National health—Practical conclusion 
—Concerts—Specimen—Programmes— Sing-Academie— Prices of admission— 
Quartette Soirees—Church music—Mozart—Birth-day party at a pastor’s—Rooms 
—Amusements—Woman’s position—The courses—Toasts—Speeches—Philoso¬ 
phy of eating,... 184 










X 


CONTENTS 


PAGB 

CHAPTER XXI.— Ronge's Sect. —A transcendental sermon—Walk home with a 
lady—Unbelief—Discussion—Denial of a future life—Her views—An account of 
the Ronge movement—The Laura hiitte letter; its effects—Ronge’s history; his 
character—The uncertainty about him—The first German Catholic churches; 
their Creeds—Important as political organizations,. 201 

CHAPTER XXII.— Politics. —Tyranny in Prussia—Diplomacy—Yincke's speech— 
—Prussia’s humiliation—Banishment of editors—New press-law—A soldier's re¬ 
mark,. 213 

CHAPTER XXIII.— Christmas. —My landlady—The shoemaker’s tree—The gaiety 
of the city—Sermons upon the subject—The eve—party at a friend's—Tree- 
Presents—Epigrams—Games—Christmas hymn—Another family—Enjoyment 
My welcome—Reading to the children—The supper—Christmas-cakes,. 221 

CHAPTER XXIV.— The German Union. —An abstract of history—The Empire 
—Formation of present Constitution—Confederation of Rhine—Conferences of 
Vienna,. 227 

t 

CHAPTER XXV.— German Confederacy. —Articles of the Treaty—The feelings 
at the result—Later proceedings of the Diet; its tyranny— National Parlia¬ 
ment of ’48,.... 235 

CHAPTER XXVI.— Last Attempts for German Union.— The Parliament—The 
Prussian Union—The Austrian—Congress of Princes—Reestablishment of old 
Confederacy—Hopes for future Union. 245 

CHAPTER XXVII.—TnE Army. —Interview with a Prussian officer; his opinions 
—Loyalty—The rifle—The Prussian military system—The ‘‘line”—Its forma¬ 
tion—The Landwehr—The Reserve—Whole number—Character of the army— 
its costs,. 253 

CHAPTER XXVIII.— An Evening Party.— Strictness of etiquette—Scientific so¬ 
ciety—A lady’s views of instinctive passion—European freedom from prudery— 

Card playing—The dance—Chat with a lady—Hood’s poems—The “spleen”— 
Sauerkraut—Defence of Hungary—The retort and rebuke—Slavery,.. 261 











CONTENTS. 


xi 


PAGB 

CHAPTER XXIX.— The Fetes. —Anniversary National Festival—The grand Levee 
—Liveries—Career of Prussia—Her different provinces—Silesia—The famine of 
’48—The Press—Webster's Letter—The German newspapers—The Times ,. 274 

CHAPTER XXX.—A Visit to the Chambers. —Talk with a Democrat—The Re¬ 
view—Hatred of the Church—Our walk—The Prussian Commons—The Prime 
Minister—The orators—Vincko—The debate—Walk home—Lunch—Conversa¬ 
tion on Democracy—Constitution of Prussia; its features,. 282 

CHAPTER XXXI.— Sunday in Germany. —My Landlady—The Cathedral—The ser¬ 
vice—Sermon—Quaint subject—Talk with a Skeptic—Danger to the Protestant 

clergy—Warning—A Baptist meeting—Supper at Pastor-'s—A chat—Sects— 

Socialism—Children’s Questions—Indians—Family customs—European sermon¬ 
izing,.. 2^7 


CHAPTER XXXII.— Union op German Churches— Different forms—Luther and 
Calvin—Dissensions—Efforts at reconciliation—Union in 1817 —New Church 
service—Oppposition—Quarrels—Attempts for reunion in ’46—The failure,. 312 

CHAPTER XXXIII.—A Day with a Burger —Our party—The silver wedding 
—Ladies’ work—Stroll in the gardens—Betrothal—A lawyer; his labors—Juries 
— Peehveek —Talk on woman’s position—Lunch—German bread—Puddings— 

Free Trade debate—German and American manner—Phrenology—Dinner—The 
dishes—The watchman,. 827 

CHAPTER XXXIV.— American Students. —Berlin University—Expenses—Its 
advantages—Mr. Theo. Fay—Rationalism in Germany—The sad aspect—Its good 
effects— Schleiermacher, . 345 

CHAPTER XXXV.— Dresden. —Interview with Dr. ——,—Slavery—Our example 

—Our disgrace—A German lady—My visit—her type of character,. 352 

CHAPTER XXXVI.— Prague. —The rail-road—First view of Austria—Bank notes 
—Currency—Walk in the city—The old bridge—Evening with the Professors— 
Reforms in Universities—The Slavonic movement,. 360 

CHAPTER XXXVII.— Walk Td Laurenzibkro.— My companions -The Catholic 
worship—Costumes—Our chat—The grand scene—A droll warden—The State’s 
prison —The Jews—Freeing the peasants—The convents,..... 369 














CONTENTS. 


xii 


PAGB 

CHAPTER XXXVIII.—A Bohemian Lady.— Odd housekeeping—Blunder—Long 
talk upon Catholicism—Confession—Bowing to Saints—Prayer—Celibacy—Jesuits 
—Barrenness of Protestant worship—Lavater,. 376 

CHAPTER XXXIX.— Vienna.— Reflections—The Carpathians—The Prater—King 
of Greece—Emperor’s turn out —Count Grunne, the favorite—Shows—Costumes 
—Sports—Another side—The Cathedral worship—The priests’ appearance,. 883 

CHAPTER XI.— Life in Vienna.— The homes—Dress of ladies—Morals—A Rev¬ 
isionist ; his hopes—A Vienna gentleman—Education—Count Thun—A dinner 
party—The apartments—The flower vase—Chatting—Expenses of living—An in¬ 
teresting company—The amateur Revolutionist—Table talk—Austrian art—Ca- 
nova’s group—The wines—Ereo Trade—Coflco and cigars—Story of Viennese 
manners—Marriage in high life,. 392 

CHAPTER XLI. —Vienna.— The Turk — An excursion — The arsenal — Curiosity — 

The Briel dinner—Nine-pins—Peasants; their degradation—An evening party— 
Austrian Conservatives—Conversation—Finances—The Times— “ Protection”— 

A liberal lady—Discussion upon Hungary—Mr. Bowen—Kossuth—Austrian 
opinion of America—Argument—Admissions—Adieus— Conclusion,. 410 

APPENDIX.—GERMAN TARIFF-UNIONS. 

No. I.—The Zollverein; or Prussian Union... 425 

No. II.—The Steuerverein; or Hanoverian Union. 433 

No. III.—The Austrian Union. 43 g 










SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


CHAPTER I. 

FROM LEITH TO HAMBURG. 

I "was leaning on the bulwarks of the steamer, watching the bold 
hills behind Edinburgh gradually sink away, and the long line of blue 
mountains, opposite to Leith,'become more and more mellow in the 
distance, when I was interrupted by a pleasant voice, with 

“ The Nature is very fine on this coast!” I assented warmly, 
turned and found a man leaning on the fo’castle house, engaged like 
myself in watching the receding shore. From his language, though 
not his accent, a German, I judge—a gentleman evidently—tones 
refined and full—dress very simple, shaggy outside coat, rough vest, 
coarse gray pantaloons, but with a neat travelling cap, a fine shirt, 
and, as accidentally appeared, a handsome watch and chain—face 
closely shaven, like the English, and with well-cut features, still a 
German face.. He has a pamphlet in his hand wiiich he has been 
reading—very likely, some North-German gentleman, who has been 
on his travels in England, and is returning home by way of Hamburg. 

We fall into conversation; and I ask him soon whether he has 
been long in Scotland ? 



14 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


“ Oh no,” he says, “ only since three months in Scotland, but a 
year in England.’’ He is not very communicative, until at length, 

I let fall incidentally, that I am an American. 

“ I am very glad,” he says, “ I thought you were an Englishman 
from your appearance, and I always am a little—eh ?— genirt —how 
call you it ?—embarrassed with an English traveller. You know 
how they are to strangers ?” 

I tell him that I like the Germans very much, that I have been 
on my travels for about a year, mostly on foot, and last year that I 
was on the Rhine, and was so much interested in South-Germ any, 
that I determined to see something of the other parts, “ and now I 
am going to Hamburg for that purpose.” 

This confidential account of my plans was enough, and he at once 
spoke as frankly with me. He had been a tutor in German to two 
young Scotch noblemen on the lakes, and teacher of this language 
in one of the English Universities ; had graduated a short time be¬ 
fore at Bonn, and his father was a distinguished scientific man, 
whose name I had often heard. His object in going to England 
was to perfect himself in English, and to earn money enough to con¬ 
tinue his studies. He was now crossing to Berlin, to spend tfie 
winter there. 

Such a companion was an especial windfall for me, but I was in 
somewhat of a perplexity. I had sent my luggage—carpet-bag 
and knapsack—down to the steamer in Leith, and had booked my¬ 
self for the second cabin, for Hamburg, but on getting on to the 
boat, the second cabin proved to be filled up with casks and spar-* 
canvass, as they were not in the habit of taking second-cabin pas¬ 
sengers on this line ! So that the choice was left me, either of tak 
ing a first cabin passage at £2, with one or two dull, stiff-looking 
gentlemen, or of “ roughing it” indiscriminately for three days with 



A RENCONTRE. 


15 


the sailors and engine-hands, at £1. A part of my plan, through 
my whole journey, had been to see the under crust of Europe, as 
much as possible. So I chose the latter. But this appearance of 
my new German friend made a difference, and I told him the case 
and my perplexity. “So! Vortrefflich! excellent!” said he, “I 
came on board exactly in the same way. Now we will be com¬ 
rades !” and we shook hands heartily over it, and at once sat down on 
a pile of canvass for a long chat. . 

“ You see,” said he, “ a pound goes a great way in Germany—as 
far as three or four in England—and I thought I might as well 
save it here. It would carry me to all the concerts and theatres of 
the winter in Berlin. Besides, I should like to get acquainted with 
these fellows here!” and he pointed to the crew at work around us. 
This led on to various questionings and answerings about Germany 
and German habits. 

“ Would you like to have your wealthy friends know you travelled 
in this w r ay ?” I asked. 

“ Certainly,” he answered, w I always travelled so, when I was a 
student, and half the Professors do it now. The truth is, there are 
not many circles in Germany, where poverty is a disgrace. It is not 
as it is in England ; our higher classes are not ashamed of econo— 
what is your word ?—money-saving. Ack —how glad I shall be to 
be back in the old Fatherland again, where one must not be always 
looking out, for—that for which we have no German word—the 
Respectability / ” 

He did not say it distinctly, but he had been much annoyed, I 
should gather, while a teacher in England, by the weight of caste 
above him; and he longed to be in a land again, where a man is 
taken for what he is worth, and not for what his grandfather was. 

He was intending to spend the winter in Berlin, and I meant to 



10 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


be there in a few weeks. We engagedto meet, if possible. I then 
told him my more especial plan. I had seen enough of the usual 
sights of travel, and I wanted particularly now to see German soci¬ 
ety, to become acquainted with the Home-life. I thought an 
American could learn more from that, than from all other things in 
Europe. “ As for your governments and your institutions, we have 
little to gain from studying those. Your Art, I hope to examine.” 

“ Ach! and what beautiful! You know not our modern Ger¬ 
man Art. If you only could see Kaulbach and Cornelius!—but 
'pardon ! go on!” 

“ I want especially to see how you Germans live and talk at 
home, and I am going mostly with that object. Still my prospects 
do not seem very good, as I have only three letters to Hamburg 1” 

“ Es thut nichts ! It makes no difference! You need not the 
recommendation-letters. If you like the Germans, they will like 
you, and will pass you on from one to the other. Only, mein 
lieber Herr, is your mind fully made up for the Sauerkraut , and to 
renounce your English port ?” 

I laughed, and made him the earnest assurance that it was. 
“ Ach! how you will our Germany enjoy ! You are right. It is 
the Home which is the best thing with us. We know how to enjoy. 

Ah ! when shall I see mine again, dear L-n! way off on the 

Rhine ! the sunny Rhine land!” He was looking off to the South, 
where the waves were gilded under the setting sun. I said nothing. 

After a pause we were soon again in pleasant conversation. 

“ What do you think it would cost a man by the year,” said I, 
“ in Berlin, living as we should want to live ?” 

“ It is very different in different quarters of the city,” he replied, 
“ and the cost will so vary, as one shall understand the modes of -the 
place. I shall take a room in one of the best struts, dress like other 




CHATTING. 


17 


gentlemen, and have all our best pleasures—music, the art and the 
pleasantest society—all for about 300 Shaler ($225) a year. It 
would cost you or a stranger more. Berlin is more expensive, as— 
than the University-towns, or the cities in Southern Germany— 
Munich, for instance—I have lived there for 200 Shaler ,—and such 
musique and theatres! But in general, living is very cheap in 
Germany.” 

Engaged in pleasant talk, we hardly noticed that the evening was 
coming on, until we remembered that there were sleeping-places to 
get for the night. Our first attempt was in the engine room, where 
we found some sociably-inclined firemen, who took us into their little 
cabin. 

We were all soon on the best terms. The firemen brought out 
pipes, and N. (my German) sent for whiskey for them. I took a 
pipe, and we sat long chatting over our adventures. 

At length I left my companion, stowed away in one of the dirty 
berths, and went forward and hired a bunk of one of the hands, in 
the little forecastle, and was soon sound asleep. 

The next day there came on a hard storm—one of those tremen¬ 
dous gales which sweep often across the German Ocean. The waves 
poured over our bows in a constant stream, so that I was compelled 
to keep quietly in my berth all day. I am never sea-sick, and was 
well used to all possible rough quarters, but I thought my German 
friend would find his first experience in cheap travelling in English 
steamers, rather too much for him. He did come forth the next 
day, a most woe-begone, soiled, draggled-looking man. But he 
only laughed at his own miseries, and insisted that he had had “ a 
grand time” with the boys below. 

The contrast was most pleasant, when after the incessant tossing 
and rolling for three days, we entered the quiet river of the Elbe ; 



18 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


and a few hours later, came to anchor before the long, handsome 
quay of the city of Hamburg. 

I said a hearty farewell to N., who was going up to Kiel to visit 
friends; we engaged where to meet in Berlin. My luggage was 
pitched into a boat, and in a few moments, I was being rowed 
quietly along through the still canals, overhung with trees, and 
under the fantastic warehouses of this quaint old city. A polite 
bow from the custom-house officer as we landed ; my bags passed 
without examination; and behold me following the porter through 
the narrow streets of old Hamburg. 



CHAPTER II. 


HAMBURG, AND A GERMAN HOUSE. 

October 9,1860. 

Hamburg is a much more interesting city, in appearance, than I 
had any reason to suppose from the accounts of travels and guide 
books. 

The contrast between “ the old city” and the new, is very striking. 
The quiet antique alleys, like those of the Dutch cities, with canals 
and shade Irees, and fantastic gables and rather anomalous statuary 
in the niches of the walls in one quarter, and in the other, the 
grand, new, bustling streets, built in the finest style of modern 
architecture, and opening out imposingly around the wide Basin of 
the Alster. 

In May, of the year 1842, a great fire occurred here, which 
raged for four days, and reduced the finest part of the city to ashes. 
Over seventeen hundred houses were destroyed, and the flames were 
only checked by the skilful exertions of an English engineer, Mr. 
Bindley, of whom I shall have more to say hereafter. After the 
fire, the town was rebuilt under the direction of this gentleman, ana 
in a very complete and splendid manner. The narrow, unhealthy 


20 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


alleys were widened; new streets laid out; the old stagnant ditches 
filled up, and some of the most imposing lines of buildings erected, 
which are to be seen in Europe. In fact, I know no city on the 
continent, whose business-streets make so fine an impression at first 
sight. Stone is very scarce here, so that nearly all the houses are 
built of brick, with a hard cement or stucco over it. Either the 
climate is more favorable, or it is a much better cement than with 
us,—certainly the stuccoed houses look far better than in our cities; 
and it has afforded an opportunity for something which is extremely 
needed in our country, that is, giving to each house its own peculiar 
ornament. One becomes so heartily tired of long rows of monoto¬ 
nous houses, exactly corresponding to each other, without an attempt 
at variety or character. Here I passed through streets of high, 
handsome houses, where they had all. the advantage which ours 
have—and undoubtedly it is an advantage—of a succession of simi¬ 
lar parallel lines of structure on the front, one above the other; but, 
besides, peculiar independent ornaments to each building. Every 
house had a character. Every man could show his own peculiar 
taste on the front of his home. And this cement gives a beautiful 
opportunity for all kinds of graceful moulding and ornament, and 
even for small statuary. The Hamburgers have improved it well. 

I found the public walks, also, and gardens of the city, very pleas¬ 
ing. The old bastions are laid out into agreeable promenades, 
which were gay on this day with merry parties. At length, in the 
evening after my arrival, after much pleasant rambling about the 
city, I resolved to deliver one of my letters of introduction, and 
while away an hour or two. With some delay, I found the house; 
the servant carried up my card with the letter; a friendly, hearty 
voice bade me welcome in English, and I found myself in company 
with a genial old gentleman and two younger ones, engaged over a 



INTRODUCTION. 


21 


decanter of Teneriffe and a round of cold beef. A place was made 
for me at once, and we were all soon in animated conversation. 
They spoke English well, and were very much interested to hear 
anything of America, and especially of our recent extravagancies 
about Jenny Lind. Punch seemed the great authority about us, 
and they asked if “ Barnum would really smoke at her concerts, as 
he is there pictured !” 

After the supper was thoroughly disposed of, cigars were lighted 
without ceremony, and we spent a long evening in very pleasant 
talk. 

They entered into my objects of seeing German life, rather than 
the usual sights, with much interest; and at the close, I had 
engaged to spend the next day with the old gentleman, and to 
submit myself entirely to his guidance. It was late in the evening 
when I groped my way to my hotel, very happy at the friendly 
welcome I had found so soon, in a German home. 


October —*1850. 

“ There is certainly a kind of simplicity about these Ger¬ 
mans, which one does not see in America,” I thought to 
myself, as I sat in my friend’s parlor, the next morning, in a 
comfortable house, looking out over the Alster. It was the 
house of a man of fortune, a retired merchant; yet the whole, 
though bearing tokens of a cultivated taste, showed a remarkable 
plainness. The parlor in which I sat—a high, handsome room, 
with prettily-painted ceiling and tasteful papering, had no carpet. 
The furniture was simple ; there was no grand display of gilt and 
crimson anywhere; and it was evident very little had been laid out 
on mere splendor. Yet one could not but notice how carefully 




22 


SOCIAL LIIE IN GERMANY. 


even very common implements had been chosen with reference to 
grace of form. The candle-stands, the shade-lamps, and even the 
pitcher, or the common vase, had something exceedingly graceful 
and almost classical in their shape. The designs of the music-hold¬ 
ers, and of the table ornaments, caught the eye at once—every 
article seemed to have a meaning. The pictures on the walls or the 
table were not expensive—often mere sketches ; yet they were very 
pleasant to look at, and had not been placed there, evidently, 
merely because “ pictures must be hung in every respectable parlor.” 
The figures of the daguerreotypes showed the same traits ; not for¬ 
midable ranks of stiff forms, but easy groups around some animal, 
or in some natural position. There were flowers, too, everywhere ; 
and especially that most graceful of all flower vessels, which I have 
seen alone in Germany, though I believe it came from Italy, called 
the “ Ampel? Y It is simply a half vase, very much like the old 
Grecian lamp , hung with cords from the ceiling, with some flower¬ 
ing vine in it, which twines and wreaths around it; yet the beauty 
of it all can hardly be imagined. The only exception in this house 
to the general good taste, was the high white Berlin stove , looking 
like a porcelain tower with gilt battlements ; but possibly one who 
is accustomed to our quiet, sombre machines, must need a little 
discipline to get used to these gay articles. 

While noticing all this, my friend came in and welcomed me cor¬ 
dially, as he had hardly expected I would be up early enough to 
accept his invitation to breakfast. “We keep much earlier hours,” 
said he, “ than you English. Business begins here at eight, where 
it would not in England till ten, and breakfast is even earlier than 
oui-s—usually at seven.” 

The breakfast was simply coffee and Brodchen —little bread-rolls 
—fov which Hamburg is famous. The coffee w$s made at the table 



HOUSEKEEPING. 


23 


by the ladies, as it is in France, and sometimes with us, by pouring 
qpiling water over the coffee and letting it drain for a few minutes 
in a machine for the purpose; the principal care being that it 
should drain slowly, through both a sieve and some tissue paper. 

After breakfast, we went out to look at the garden. The house 
below—and I shall not fear to offend my friend by particularising , 
as the description would apply to two-thirds of the houses in 
Germany—resembles the upper part in its plainness of appearance. 
There are no carpets or matting on the stairway. On one side of 
the hall is a long dining-room, lined with portraits, with gilt mold¬ 
ings and tasteful papering, but the floor again, bare, though scrupu¬ 
lously neat. There are handsome curtains at the windows and a 
few substantial articles of furniture, but, altogether, it has a rather 
naked appearance, and probably serves as a dancing-room. The 
other side of the hall opens into a small room, looking out on the 
garden, and connected with a pleasant grapery, which is warmed 
from within, as grapes cannot be raised here without artificial heat. 
This room is used, perhaps, as a smoking or coffee-room—a cool, 
shaded room for the summer. 

Like most of the buildings here, the house stands directly upon 
the street. The outer door is left unlocked, but the opening it stirs 
a bell, and the inner door is unfastened by a servant. The garden 
was tasteful and pleasant, with the fruits and flowers of a northern 
climate. It is singular that the apples here, as almost everywhere 
in Europe, are small and poor in flavor, compared to ours. My 
friend, like the English, considers our American pippins one of the 
rarest and most beautiful additions to a dessert-table. 

The other parts of the house, so far as I saw them, had the same 
general air of simplicity and good taste. The bed-rooms are 
without carpets, too, at least in the summer. 



24 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


Not having tried my friend’s beds, I may claim without discour¬ 
tesy, a traveller’s privilege, in saying something here of Ocrma^ 
beds. The whole nation, with all their intellectual progress, have 
not made the first step in the philosophy of beds. And to one 
coming from England, Germany presents a most deplorable contrast. 
In England, the bed is considered almost a sacred spot. It is 
carefully and nicely made; it is curtained off trom the world ; and 
there are very few inns so poor, as not to have many ornaments 
and comforts about their beds. But in Germany, it does not seem 
to be considered a place where an important part of life is to be 
spent. It is only a narrow, open lounge —always too short for a 
long man, and too narrow for a restless one. The mattrass 
is a most light, flimsy affair, which is attempted to be counter¬ 
balanced by an immense hard pillow, reaching half way down 
the bed, so that one is obliged to lie at a half-sitting posture. 
And to crown all, for a coverlid, is a large, light feather-bed 
or pillow, which makes one intolerably warm under it, and 
leaves one very cold without it. These beds have been the subject 
of malediction with travellers, since Coleridge’s feeling remarks on 
the subject, but they do not appear to have changed much, except 
in a few places on the Rhine, where the English have fairly grumbled 
them away. 

The remainder of the morning my friend kindly devoted to 
showing me the principal sights of the town ; and in the afternoon, 
I presented my other letters. One was to Mr. Lindley, the English 
engineer. Mr. L. is the last one to wish his name brought out in 
this conspicuous way, but I cannot forbear expressing my thanks for 
his many attentions to me, and my admiration for what he is 
accomplishing in Hamburg. A free-minded, untiring, hopeful 
man—one who believes that God’s world is not quite a stagnant 



AN ENGLISHMAN 


as 


pool of wretchedness, but that something can be done to clear it 
and make it flow on again—and who is doing his part for this in a 
very thorough way. I had the pleasure of meeting him frequently ? 
and the account of all his efforts in the city, his attempts to stop the 
progress of “ the great fire” by the general blowing up of buildings; 
his struggles with the lower classes, who at first believed him almost 
a demoniac man, plotting the destruction of the city ; his gigantic 
plans for rebuilding, and endeavors to inspire the Germans with 
something of the English practical spirit, would form an interesting 
history in itself. 

He has just offered, I was told in private, $10,000 to the city 
corporation, if they would subscribe the rest, for building several 
large bath-houses for the poor, after the manner of the London 
houses. At his suggestion, and by his plan, some grand water¬ 
works have been erected, which supply the whole city with pure 
water, and the pipes from which can be used for the engines in 
every block, in case of another fire. He has constructed, too, an 
immense building and machinery, with a very high tower, for the 
gas-works—much of it contrived on new principles. He was 
superintending, while I was there, some new extensive docks, laid 
out by himself. One of the best quarters of the city, on the right 
bank of the Elbe, has been gained by him, from the marsh, by 
thorough drainage and by pumping out the water with a steam- 
engine, and filling in the space with the rubbish from the fire. Mr. 
Lindley has been the rebuilder of Hamburg ; and all agree, that tc 
his improvements a great change in *he health of the poorest 
quarters, is due. The first feelings, as I said, towards him during 
the fire, by the lower classes, were of intense suspicion and hatred. 
Under his direction, some of the finest buildings in the city 
had been blown into the air. The crowd cried out that “ the 



26 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


foreigner was trying to ruin Hamburg,” and he hardly escaped with 
his life. But afterwards, as they saw the fire subsiding through 
these measures, and when later, they beheld his unceasing exertions 
to rebuild and improve the city, they began almost to idolize him. 
And now, by workmen and Burschen , no man is better beloved 
than Mr. Bindley, the English engineer. 


Octobeb 13, 1850. 

I went out to-day in company with one of my friends, to visit 
a wealthy gentleman, living in the outskirts of Hamburg. I 
preferred to walk, and was well repayed by the opportunity 
it gave me for examining the pleasant villas which surround 
the city. For some time, I wondered to myself what it was 
that gave so different an air to them all, from that of our 
country-seats. They were built not unlike them, of wood or 
stuccoed brick, in rectangular forms, or with slightly varied outline. 
The grounds in general did not seem especially “ foreign” in their 
designs. I concluded finally, the difference was in the universal 
tendency to make the most of the open air. The houses were all 
surrounded with pleasant balconies, opening into the sitting-rooms ; 
there Wore porticoes, leafy boudoirs connecting with the inside; the 
gardens were full of arbors, and summer-houses and seats, where 
people were eating and drinking, as if it were as habitual there as 
within doors. 

We found the family we would visit just sitting down to “lunch,"” 
and we were at once placed at the table. There was a little 
company -accidentally assembled; and the lunch, though it was 
only eleven o’clock, presented itself as a rather formidable meal—- 
steaks, bread-cakes, fish and claret, with a close of some beautiful 
grapes and pears from the gentleman’s conservatories, and decanters 



THE TABLE. 


27 


of choice pale sherry. There was little form, though several 
servants were in waiting. The great topic of conversation was the 
war then going on in Schleswig-Holstein, against Denmark. All 
seemed to sympathise most deeply with the insurgents. I was 
somewhat surprised to notice, too, considerable conversation on 
religious subjects. My German is rather limited yet, and a very 
rapid conversation, where there is a confusion of voices, I find it 
difficult to follow; but I was struck with the earnest, practical tone 
of what was said. The subject seemed generally connected with 
something they called the “ Inner Mission ,” which I did not at 
the time understand. My neighbors at the table were very polite, 
and very much was asked about America, where many of them 
seemed to have friends. 

Our time, the remainder of the day till dinner, at five o’clock— 
for they would not hear of our returning till after we had dined 
with them—was spent in examining the very handsome estate of 
the gentleman, and in talking with the various friends who chanced 
to come in. As a considerable company of the neighbors had 
assembled, in part through invitation of the host, to compliment us, 
the dinner proved quite a formal affair. The ladies in full dress; 
a splendid dining-hall with flowers and lights ; and a line of respect¬ 
able-looking • servants. I was curious to see what the arrangement 
of courses would be. Soup, as everywhere, the first—then a ilhine 
wine poured out to each one who would take it; the second course, 
boiled beef; next, fish with a red wine ; then pigeons and Saxony 
larks, a little delicacy much valued here ; pudding; and champagne 
served; and last of the solid courses, roast venison. The dessert 
was black bread and cheese, with port wine. 

The especial enjoyment of the meal was evidently in the 
conversation, and there was little hard drinking. The ladies did 



SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


not drink wine at all. The principal person at table, and one to 
whom all listened with marked attention, was a strong-featured, 
earnest-looking man, who, though he made a keen joke occasion¬ 
ally, was talking mostly of very serious matters. His voice was 
deep and fervid, and as he spoke some times of the social evils in 
Germany; of the wrongs of the poor; of the little hold which 
religion has upon them ; and of the utter want through the nation 
of any practical piety, I could see from the deep stillness of the 
company, that they felt they were listening to great truths, uttered 
by an earnest man. He spoke of the “ Inner Mission” again, as 
a means of reform. 

I could not restrain my curiosity longer, and asked in a whisper 
of my next neighbor what this “ Inner Mission” was, of which 
they were speaking so much. He answered with the enthusiasm 
which they all seemed to feel in regard to it, still his explanation 
had something of the German vagueness , and I only gathered that 
it was a grand Religious Institution, and that he himself was 
strongly “ Evangelical” in his views. The gentleman who was 
speaking, he said, was a man well known through Germany —Herr 
Wichern. From this, we fell into something of a conversation on 
these matters. 

He asked me whether I did not notice a very great contrast here 
in thv, observance of the Sabbath, to my own country. I had, I 
replied, and I had been wondering whether the people really held 
it as a religious day, only in a different outward mode from ours ; 
cr whether it was merely a day of amusement. 

“ There is not the least trace of religion in it,” said he, “ with 
the most of them. In the Protestant Church, which I attend, there 
are 20,000 members, and not 1200 of them ever come to the 



INNER MISSION. 


29 


Church. The lower classes drink beer and roll nine pins ( Kegel ) on 
that day, and the higher saunter about and go to dinner parties.” 

“ I could hardly credit it,” I said. “ This was but a small part,” 
he replied, “ of what I would see, as I travelled more in Germany.” 
I asked him, farther, whether he did not find a great want of sym¬ 
pathy in his peculiar views. “ Yes, certainly, but, thank God ! the 
darkest days for Germany in practical irreligion, are past!” 

Our conversation was interrupted by the company rising, 
and each gentleman taking his lady again to the drawing-room. 
Here each bowed to the other, and said a few words, as if in salu¬ 
tation, all which of course I followed, with the exception of the 
“ good wishes for the meal,” which I did not well understand. A 
traveller’s ignorance in these matters is always very charitably 
treated. 

In regard to the Inner Mission, it may be well now to state, 
what I afterwards learned, especially as it is a movement which is 
even yet deeply influencing the religious condition of Germany. 
The name, Innere Mission , I will not attempt to translate, for it 
seems hardly to correspond to anything we have. It is not a Soci¬ 
ety, though the word sounds like it, nor a Brotherhood ; but appa¬ 
rently it is an immense popular movement to meet the influence 
of Rationalism in Germany. The object is to call back the people 
from the abstract, mystical, skeptical tendencies which have distin¬ 
guished them so long, and bring them to the practical good works 
of religion. They mean, as many of those engaged in the move¬ 
ment will tell you, to “ Englicise Germany.” They have found 
that religion has lost its practical hold of the people; that the 
churches are poorly attended; that spirituality has little connection 
with education ; and that works of charity are shamefully neglected. 
They design to change this. To go around and influence individu- 



30 


SOCIAL LI*E IN GERMANY. 


ally the lower classes; to introduce religious education in the 
schools ; to bring together more to the churches, and to reestablish 
family-worship in the houses; to form ragged schools and asylums, 
and places of reform for prostitutes; to establish temperance (not 
abstinence) societies in some communities ; and to found sailors 
homes in the seabord towns. The plan seems too great, and to em¬ 
brace too wide a variety of objects, to be the plan of one move¬ 
ment. Yet so it is. And many who are joining in it look even 
higher than to these ends. They hope to change the relations of 
governments to one another, and gradually to make the State only 
one branch of this immense institution, the Church. The plan 
itself, perhaps, has something of what they are objecting to—the 
German Idealism. Yet I am bound io say, that thus far the results 
have been very practical. Institutions almost unknown before in 
Germany have arisen under its influence, for the poor and the un¬ 
fortunate. Orphan asylums, vagrant schools, and “ homes” for 
abandoned women have been erected by these faithful followers of 
the Inner Mission. Under its working, the attendance on churches 
and prayer-meetings, has widely improved. And if I can judge at 
all from the accounts of those interested in it, families have already 
felt the effects of it in a more hearty attempt to worship together, 
and in greater efforts for a useful religious life. 

The King of Prussia—a man apparently very quick to feel any 
noble idea, and very uncertain sometimes in his action, and fitted to 
be anything better than a good King —has taken deep interest in 
many of these movements for forming charitable institutions, and has 
given very substantial aid. 

The meetings of the “ Missions” are held in various parts of Ger¬ 
many, and are some periodical, and others chance gatherings. Those 
connected with this enterprise are called the “ Friends of the Inner 



HERR WICHERN. 


31 


Mission,” and can belong to any sect of Christendom ; even promi¬ 
nent Roman Catholics have sometimes taken part in it. At the 
head of-it all, holding the various strings which connect with its 
wide operations, the life and centre of the movement, is a ma’n who 
in another age, and in other circumstances, would have been the 
Loyola of a religious society— Herr Wichern. A man of indom¬ 
itable energy, of high and enthusiastic nature, yet uniting with it in 
a combination not often seen in human nature, except in such char¬ 
acters as Ignatius Loyola, the shrewdness of a man of the world, 
and a thorough practical talent. By his efforts many of these char¬ 
itable institutions have been formed through various parts of Ger¬ 
many, and he is now himself at the head of an immense charity or 
vagrant-school in Hamburg, of which I shall have more to say 
hereafter, conducted as it is on principles quite new in the manage¬ 
ment of such institutions. He is summoned constantly to different 
parts of the country on the work of this “ Mission,” and report says, 
has no little influence with the crowned heads of Germany. On 
the whole, the movement appears to be a grand one, and is certainly 
a tremendous protest against Rationalism ; or, at least against the 
present religious condition of Germany, under the influence of Ra¬ 
tionalism. “It is a second Reformation,” some of those engaged in 
it will tell you, except that “ it begins in the Church, and has the 
support of the Church.” One might fear it would become in pro¬ 
cess of time, an immense religious society, controlling the populace 
everywhere, and liable to be used by ambitious men for bad pur¬ 
poses. But the day seems to have gone by for that, and we may 
hope for better things. 



CHAPTER III. 


SOCIAL LIFE IN HAMBURG. 

Hamburg is one of the wealthiest cities in Germany, in constant 
connection with England, and where English habits of luxury have 
penetrated. It is famous in the German States for the good din¬ 
ners and the riches of its citizens. Yet there is throughout the 
middle classes—with a few inconsistencies—a simplicity and frugality^ 
of which we know little in America. Money is made with moro 
difficulty than with us, and is naturally not spent so freely. People 
talk of economy, as if it were a thing really to be considered. I 
find that merchants, in good business, not unfrequently retire on a 
fortune of $20,000 or $30,000. The gentlemen, too, travel in 
cheap conveyances, such as we Americans would never endure. I 
have scarcely seen carpets on the floors of a single house, except 
among a few of the wealthiest; and the furniture, in general, 
though tasteful, is not at all expensive. People are contented with 
small means, and yet they make those means go a great way, in 
comfort and beauty. 

I have said, there were some inconsistencies in this home-life of 
the Germans. With a most grateful and comfortable sense of all 
the hospitality I have received from them, I must be permitted to 


HABITS. 


33 


say, that in eating , and in a few of their habits, they are hardly 
consistent with their simple and ideal tendencies elsewhere. 

The hours for rising in the city are much earlier, as I before 
remarked, than in England ; usually in the middle classes half-past 
six or seven. The breakfast is always merely a cup of coffee and 
bread-cakes. After this slight meal, the gentlemen go to their busi¬ 
ness and the ladies to their household work ; and I have been sur¬ 
prised to observe in the various families of my acquaintance how 
much the ladies do of housekeeping work, and even cooking. 
At eleven or twelve, those of the family who are at home, meet 
again for “ lunch.” This is a moderately substantial meal of cold 
meat, bread and butter, preserves and fruit, with some light wine 
like Burgundy or Claret. Then at three o’clock comes the dinner, 
the meal of the day of course. With many of the business men, 
the same custom prevails as in our large cities and in England, of 
having the dinner at five or six o’clock, after the business of the day. 
But three or four o’clock is the more general hour. The meal com¬ 
mences according to the world-wide custom, with soup ; then suc¬ 
ceed roast meat and vegetables, and then perhaps fish and various 
courses to the number, often, of five or six, each course however be¬ 
ing only a small dish—and the remarkable thing about it all, being 
that the fruits come in, in the middle of the courses, and the roast 
meats just before the end. The dessert, according to an English 
custom, and one which does not prevail much in our country, is 
bread with butter, or cheese. The wines do not seem to be as 
varied, as in family dinners in England, being generally the light 
red wine, either of France or the Rhine, together with Teneriffe. 
The last dish is always a cup of strong black coffee. Of course, 
this arrangement of dinner differs somewhat in different families, and 
perhaps the order of courses is not strictly fixed; yet such a dinner 



34 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


would not be at all uncommon, and might be considered a fair sam¬ 
ple of a good family dinner . 

I have spoken of wine drinking—and it may not be out of place 
to mention my observations with respect to it here in Hamburg. 
Wines are cheap here, owing to the absence of all duties and the 
aeiffhborhood of wine countries, Rhine wines are from lOd. to Is. 

O 

per bottle; common Burgundy from 8d. to lOd.; Bordeaux from 
4d. to 8d.; and Champagne from 2s. to 4s. The people drink the 
lighter wines universally, yet the number of cases of intoxication is 
surprisingly small, and I never see men unduly excited by liquor at 
table, as I frequently have seen in Scotland, where the strong wines 
and whiskey are so much in use. The appearance of Hamburg, too, 
at night, is a wonderful contrast to that of Glasgow and Edinburg, 
where I have lately been, and the hideous rioting and drunkenness 
which disturb one in those cities, are seldom known here. These 
are facts which I cannot connect with any particular theory, but 
which are worth considering, as showing that there are countries 
where drinking is common, and yet where much truer ideas of tem¬ 
perance prevail, either than in rigid Scotland or in our own country. 
Whether the Scotch strictness in other matters drives men to ex¬ 
tremes in this ; or, what may be the reason, I cannot say. To one 
who would wish to look at all sides of the question of temperance, 
these facts will be worthy of attention. 

The afternoon, among the Hamburgers, is devoted to exercise, 
walking and riding, and amusement—and the lady, who has been 
perhaps working in the kitchen, now escapes to pleasanter occupa¬ 
tions. In some families we used to meet again at six, for tea, 
handed around without eatables—a custom probably derived from 
the English. The evening follows, and is spent either over whist or 
in pleasant conversation, or at concerts—and again at nine or ten 



DIET. 


35 


o’clock, is another hearty cold supper, with meats and fruit and wine, 
finished on the gentlemen’s part by cigars, which are smoked here 
apparently as freely in the parlor or dining room as any where else. 

Such as overflowing hospitality of good things, all* day, is very 
pleasant, but how the Germans ever succeed in bearing up under it, 
is a matter of some surprise to the stranger. In fact, the nation 
seem generally most daring transgressors of all the rules of dietetics , 
and yet one cannot see, but that they are as healthy and work as 
hard as most other nations. 

I have been very much amused in conversation with various peo¬ 
ple, at the popular impressions about America. They are all excel¬ 
lently well informed on the subject of our government and 
the character of the people; but their ideas of small matters are 
frequently taken altogether from the jokes circulating about us. 
Punch's “ hits” and caricatures, and even the mere good-humored 
extravagancies of the “New York Herald,” such as the loss of life 
attending on the rush for an “ Extra Herald,” are all believed with 
astonishing readiness. “ Did our gentlemen sit at the opera, with 
their feet over the backs of the boxes ?” some one inquired of me. I 
find it one of the hardest things to convince them that there is a 
difference between the North and the South; and that gentlemen 
do not carry bowie-knives about with them as they would tooth¬ 
picks, in the old States. 

There is one subject I have found it best not to touch upon too 
much with many of the Hamburgers. It is the remarkable num¬ 
ber of Prussian uniforms one sees every where in the city. I can 
scarcely go by a public building, without meeting the plain spiked 
helmet and blue coat; and not a day passes when I do not come 
upon companies of Prussian soldiers, drilling in the squares. When 
the Prussian troops returned from Holstein through Hamburg, a 



36 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


year or more ago, they were thought by the worthy democrats of 
that city, to have given up quite too easily the support of Liberal¬ 
ism, and in consequence were hooted at, and pelted by them. The 
City Senate and Burgher Guard could do nothing against them, 
and it is generally supposed these foreign troops were privately 
invited in, for the sake of keeping down the ultra-republicans. At 
any rate—much as the citizens dislike the term—Hamburg, like the 
free city of Frankfort and independent Duchy of Baden, is under 
the protection of Prussia, and Prussian bayonets uphold the repre¬ 
sentative government! 


October 20. 

I was to-day at a dinner party, and in the evening after 
it, a very characteristic conversation took place. We were 
gathered around a table, looking at some spirited illustrations of the 
Bible. A young man with finely cut features and full moustache, 
whom from his whole appearance, I took to be an artist, seemed 
much interested in them. His remarks upon them were very ap¬ 
propriate, and showed the deepest feeling for the beauty of outline, 
as well as the thought expressed. At length he dropped some 
depreciatory expression in regard to the facts thus illustrated. His 
words were at once taken up by a benevolent-looking ol<^ gentle¬ 
man—a clergyman—who stood near, and then ensued a well-sus¬ 
tained discussion, the young man maintaining the mythical theory 
of the Bible, and the “ Pastor” arguing the literal. The artist’s 
points were well put, but on the whole, fairly met by the other. 
Yet it struck me that the younger disputant was far the most in 
earnest, and there was a half-sorrowful expression occasionally in his 
eye, which showed he had some other object than mere talk, in the 
discussion. The Pastor argued as if it was his business, and the 



DISCUSSION. 


37 


young man as if he sought with whole soul for Truth. The conversa¬ 
tion soon passed, in some way, to these struggles in Europe for liberty. 
Here the religious man had changed his ground. Hopeful before, 
when he met the sombre doubts of Immortality, he was now faith¬ 
less, gloomy, timid. 

Europe is not ready for freedom, and does not at heart want it,” 
said he. “The people are wild with Socialism and Infidelity. 
They want license, indulgence. They have tried and failed enough 
in their efforts for Liberty. Have we not now a steady, Christian 
Government in North-Germany ? A. King on the throne of Prussia, 
known as an humble, faithful Christian ? Why should we tempt 
Providence, by aiming at what God shows himself unwilling to give 
“Mein Gott!” said the artist, almost with a burst of passion. 
“ And is this Religion—to lie down as slaves always ? The people 
are infidels, Herr Pastor, because the Church and Tyranny are 
bound together. Not a word of free noble sentiment against the 
oppressions of Germany ever comes from your pulpits ! Look at 
Prussia, and see that accursed unconstitutional rule upheld by the 
priests of God ! Yes, we have failed. We gained the victory and 
then trusted the princes—but so has every noble cause failed. We 
shall not trust so much again ! The King of Prussia”—and by 
this time he had gained the attention of the whole room—“ is per¬ 
jured before God and men ! He has publicly broken the oath he 
gave only two years ago. And what is going on now over poor 
Holstein, but another act of this same oppression ?” His appeal to 
Holstein evidently aroused the sympathies of the whole company ? 
and the preacher was almost silenced, though he could not restrain 
some allusions of contempt to the struggles in Hungary and South- 
Germany. I took up the cudgels here, and an animated debate 
followed, and desultory conversation, until at length we came to 



38 


SOCIAL LITE IN GERMANY. 


tlio subject of the German laws enforcing Confirmation, and the con¬ 
nection of Church and State. 

“ In our country,” said I, “ we find religion far better sustained 
by leaving it entirely to individual, voluntary support.” 

“ It might be so with you,” he replied, “ but the system would 
not work here. By the laws of confirmation, every child must go 
through with a certain course of religious instruction under the Pas- 
tor. In this way, thousands of children are instructed, who would 
never otherwise come near a clergyman. I myself spend some two 
hours almost every day in the week, in such labor with the children 
of my parish. Besides, the certificates of baptism and confirmation 
are absolutely necessary for the numbering the population and prov¬ 
ing their legitimacy.” 

“But,” said I, “do you not find, where a religious confession is 
enjoined by law, that Religion becomes a matter of form, not of the 
heart ? And does not the church pass into a mere instrument for 
upholding established authority ? I should expect to find many, 
like this gentleman, considering orthodoxy and tyranny as very 
much bound together.” 

He was obliged to admit that these evils often did result, though 
counterbalanced, he thought, by the advantages. 

I fell into a very interesting conversation, afterwards, with the 
artist, and I think he was surprised to meet any one with a distinct 
religious faith, yet sympathising in the great struggles of the day. 

“ Thank God!” I said to myself as I walked home, “ it has not 
come to this yet in our country, that Religion and a dead Conserva¬ 
tism are the same thing. Young America is Religious America 
until now!” 



CHAPTER IY. 


A GERMAN LADY. 

I heard much during this visit in Hamburg, of a remarkable 
lady, long resident in the city, and gratefully known through all 
Germany. As my friends described her, she seemed the Mrs. Fry 
of Germany : —a woman who had visited the lowest prisons of the 
city for objects of charity, and to gather facts relative to prison- 
improvement ; who had erected institutions for the abandoned and 
outcast of her own sex, and had thoroughly familiarized herself with 
the late establishments for reform in all the countries of Europe. They 
also represented that she was a woman of high cultivation and 
intelligence—a personal friend of the Queen of Denmark, and a 
correspondent of the first men in Germany, in talent and benevolence. 
Her plans, too, were far more wide-reaching than for any temporary 
reforms. She aspired to raise the position of woman in social life 
throughout Germany, and to spread her own ideas, in the most effi¬ 
cient way, by education. With this purpose she had formed a 
school, they said, where fourteen or twenty scholars from the most 
influential families were instructed by herself gratuitously. It was 
one of the best schools in Germany, as Miss Sieveking —for that is 
her name—is very accomplished in modern languages and in all the 
higher branches of instruction. 

O 


40 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


Her plan was, to implant indirectly, during her intercourse, her 
own fervent religious convictions, and her ideas of woman’s duties, 
in these pupils’ minds. The first ladies in Hamburg were glad to 
commit their daughters to her; and the result was, that she had 
sent abroad, through Germany, accomplished women filled with the 
same purposes of practical usefulness. 

I may say here, interrupting my narrative, that I afterwards 
met in various parts of Germany these ladies, and have found 
them every where leading the movements now in progress in 
Germany for spreading a purer and more practical piety. One I 
remember—a lady of rank—as the overseer of the “ Hospital for 
women” in Berlin ; another, the earnest and actively religious lady 
of the court-chaplain in the same city—Madame Snetlage—and 
others equally devoted with these, to works of reform. 

Besides these labors, Miss Sieveking had organized a society of the 
ladies of Hamburg, whose objects should be thoroughly to investi¬ 
gate the condition of the poor through the whole city. The city 
was divided into small districts: each lady took one, went over it 
every few days, made note of those needing relief or work, or talked 
with those in sorrow, and carefully inquired as to those who had 
had no religious instruction. The reports thus made are read at 
each general meeting and measures there adopted for relief, unless 
the need is too pressing to allow of delay—the great principle be¬ 
ing to give the people work, not alms. 

Tasked, in the course of our conversations, how this lady man¬ 
aged to get money to support herself in so many gratuitous labors. 
They said, that originally she had owned some property, which she 
had now entirely spent for these objects, but that she lived in so 
simple a way that it was easy for her to get along on very little 
indeed; and now, when any rich Hamburger died, even if he had 



MISS SIEVEKING 


41 


never given a penny in his life, he was sure to leave something to 
Miss S., as a kind of salve for his conscience. 

I felt very desirous of knowing her—it is so seldom that a woman 
has the courage or ability to stand out from her sex, in a life worthy 
of a being of high powers; and of all countries in the world where 
it would be hard for a woman to act against the usages of society, 
for some great intellectual or benevolent purpose, Germany is the 
worst. The cry of “ emancipirt ! ” (emancipated!) is worse than 
ever blue-stocking was with us, and is a sentence of death to any 
lady’s success for evermore in society. All accounts, too, so agreed, 
that with this lady, rough work on the realities of life had not worn 
away refinement, or modesty, or good sense, that I anticipated much 
in meeting her. 

I shall remember Jong my first interview with her, from a side- 
circumstance that occurred—one of those little blunders which a 
stranger may always make in first speaking a foreign language, and 
to'which he must harden himself, if he would ever progress at all. 
In the course of our conversation, I inquired in regard to an “ Ap¬ 
peal” she had been lately making—of which more presently—to 
the ladies of Germany ; but by a slight change of one consonant, I 
had politely asked after the “ uproar,” she had been making among 
the ladies of Germany. She was too sensible to notice it, and the 
rest of the company preserved a courteous silence; the only effect 
being that the conversation soon turned into English, which I found 
she spoke very well. 

I had expected in such a position to meet a very enthusiastic, 
ideal person, but was agreeably surprised to find her a sensible, prac¬ 
tical woman, not particularly “ exalted” with these ideas, but evi¬ 
dently carrying them out under a deep sense of Christian duty. An 
odd figure she was, too, at the elegant table where we were, with 



42 


SOCIAL ' LIFE IN GERMANY. 


her simple, quaint dress, her little active form, and her keen blue 
eyes, moving so quickly when she spoke. She did not appropriate 
the conversation, though all listened with great respect when she 
spoke. I had much talk with her. 

She told me of the difficulties she had had in starting benevolent 
institutions in Germany—how unused the people were to give, in 
their lives , for such objects; how little of the evangelical spirit, with 
which she had been so delighted in England, was to be found here. 
The ladies, too, at first could not be induced to come forward in 
practical efforts. No one was “ good ” here till she began to be 
passe , and the young ladies feared to rise above this public opinion. 
The name of “ emanciprit ” was worse than martyrdom. Some of 
the parents, too, objected in the beginning to their daughters enter¬ 
ing her Asssociation for the Poor, because it might have a bad influ¬ 
ence on their moral purity to see the worst classes. She thought it 
a good thing, on the contrary, for a young woman to see something 
of the dark sides of life. Besides, any modest ignorance of such sub¬ 
jects, she said, was altogether out of place on the part of the ladies, 
as every one knew they were entirely familiar in one way or another 
with them. She had found it very difficult, too, with the higher 
classes, to break down the unreasonable customs about fashionable 
work. Every lady of rank has come to think it an unchangeable 
duty to embroider, or do ornamental sewing, a certain number of 
hours each day. The best part of her time—hours which might be 
given to educating her mind or laboring for others, is spent in this 
useless way. “ And worse than useless,” said she, “ for it is not eco¬ 
nomical, as the thimbles and needles and nicknacks for all this cost 
more than the profits, and work is taken away from poor women 
who need it.” She remembered, she said, to have read very early 
in life a treatise on woman’s duties, in which it was declared to be 



A CHRISTIAN WOMAN. 


43 


the “ first duty of woman to sew and embroider.” She could not 
see then, and had not been able since to discover, why it was the 
universal duty of every woman to sew, any more than for every man 
to cobble or to dig. She thought there was quite as much variety in 
women’s capacities as in men’s. She had at last been able to 
induce many ladies from the higher class to leave this baby-house 
occupation, and engage in real, benevolent work for the suffering; 
and it seemed to her now that there was more of practical, evangel¬ 
ical piety among the wealthier classes than any other. 

I made in the conversation some remark about the institutions 
of reform in London, but found at once that she was far more 
thoroughly informed than myself about them, though I had visited 
them carefully. The “ Schools for vagrant children” and the 
* k Homes for reformed women” she had thoroughly examined, under 
the guidance of the most prominent nobleman of England, and she 
had already aided to found such institutions here. Still, she had 
not much hope for the reformation of these women, she said, unless 
families would consent to take them in and give them work. Merely 
living in a “ home,” hearing preaching, and having repentant 
thoughts, was not enough. They must have something in place 
of the intense excitement of their life—some steady, honorable labor. 

I drew the conversation to her efforts, a few years ago, in the 
fearful year of the cholera. She described to me a few scenes, but 
she did not say—what the citizens of Hamburg will never forget— 
how heroic and untiring her labors were in that dreadful time of 
pestilence. She did not say, that when clergyman and friend and 
father had fled in terror from the dying-bed, she could be seen, hour 
after hour, entering the deserted houses, bringing medicine and aid 
and her kind words of Christian consolation to the sufferers ; that 
when the magistrates of the city had almost abandoned the hospi- 



44 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


tals, she was there to regulate again, to encourage, to give her 
judicious counsel, and to collect food and medicine. 

There is many a family in Hamburg, both of rich and poor, who 
will forget every friend and benefactor before they cease to remem¬ 
ber that little, active, quaintly-dressed woman, with the keen, kind 
eye, who came so like an angel among them, in those terrible days 
of disease and death. 

I had been very much interested in this conversation. The 
woman’s benevolence was so evidently rational, and there was such 
a common-sense and almost sharpness of tone to her ideas, that 
you saw at once she was no mere enthusiast. As soon as possible 
afterwards, I obtained her “ Appeal to the Women of Germany,” 
and read it with great interest. 

I will give some extracts from it, as the pamphlet has had consid¬ 
erable influence in Northern Germany. 

“ APPEAL TO THE CHRISTAIN WOMEN AND MAIDENS OF 
GERMANY. 

“You have, during these last few years, often heard of the 
‘ Emancipation of Woman , 1 but for the most part in the antichristian 
sense of the Communists, and it is very natural that you have a cer¬ 
tain repugnance to the word. Yet I believe it admits also a Chris¬ 
tian interpretation, and I shall not fear therefore to use it.” * # * 
Then follow her opinions as to the position of woman in modern 
society, and the accompanying passage: “ After these explanations 
you will recognize, my dear sisters, that in that which I wish for 
our sex, my purpose is not at all directed to a removal of natural 
limitations, and those by God himself arranged. What I want is 
only a freedom from the reigning frivolity, and from the iron force- 
rule of fashion and a senseless propriety. Understand me, it is not 



THE APPEAL. 


45 


my purpose to utter a sentence of condemnation upon every occupa¬ 
tion of women with the thousand trifles, which belong to the deco¬ 
rations of life. It is not my meaning that they should raise 
themselves above every law of fashion and propriety. What I 
mean is this : the side-matters of life should not be made its head- 
piatters; the toilet and needle-work and novel-reading should never 
be the principal occupation of woman, or that filling up the greatest 
part of her time.” 

She then alludes to those to whom this is especially addressed— 
“Those who in general have the good will to do their duties, but 
are not sure of the nature and extent of them; and who on this 
account often neglect the essential for the unessential, and, not 
accustomed to a regular activity, split up time and powers in such a 
manner, that a true enjoyment comes neither for themselves nor for 
others, not to say any lasting profit.” ****** 

Her opinions of the sewing-work among the ladies of the wealthy 
classes, are given as I before expressed them: “ I really believe that 
many a lady who places her highest glory in this—that nothing is 
ever sewn out of the house, or that she does all the needle-work of 
the house with her own hands—would do far better if she would 
give this work over to some poor sewing woman or tailoress, and 
thus be of real assistance to them, and at the same time buy, at so 
small expense, valuable time to herself, to be devoted either to 
the common interests of the family, or to their higher spiritual 
interests.” 

She then enumerates some of the objects to which she would 
call forth woman’s activity, especially that of wives and mothers. 

“ A rational guidance of the housekeeping and attention to de¬ 
tail, where the limited circumstances of the husband demand it; if 
in a higher position, a supervision and oversight of accounts, with 



46 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


the duty always upon her of watching over the bodily and spiritual 
good of the servants ;—the education of her mind , so that the wife 
can be something more to the husband than a mere housekeeper or 
plaything; so that she may be capable of sharing the interests of 
liis profession, and of being to him a helpmate in the most beautiful 
sense of the word; so that her conversation can be a refreshment to 
him from his earnest business and cares, without drawing his spirit 
down to what is entirely vain and trifling; education of children in 
the nurture of the Lord; and finally, whenever the household cir¬ 
cumstances allow it, a share in useful public labors, especially for the 
poor brethren and sisters.” 

One or two extracts more must suffice. This is characteristic:— 
“ The Rights of the Poor. With careful consideration do I 
choose these words. I would produce in every Christian woman, 
mistress of a household, the conviction that, as such, she is under 
an obligation to give aid to the needy. In the oldest Christain 
churches, this was decidedly the ruling idea.” Or this address to 
“The Unmarried.” “ To the last named, who come especially near 
me, since I belong to them, I would address a warning word of 
love. Oh, dear sisters, I know many a one among you who, freshly 
and joyfully, is working under God’s visible blessing in His kingdom; 
but many another is also known to me, to whom such an activity is 
wanting, and it does not surprise me that such a one looks out sad 
and out-of-harmony (verstimmt) on the Life which has perhaps 
cheated her in its sweetest hopes. Is it so, thou dear, poor sister ? 
Oh, take fresh courage! It is indeed a beautiful calling—the calling 
of wife and mother; but meanest thou the Lord has this one bless¬ 
ing only for those who serve him ? I tell thee this blessing is as 
manifold as is the mode in which we can devote our powers to His 
honor in the service of others. Rest not till thou hast found such 



WOMAN’S SPHERE. 


47 


a life’s calling. That this must of course be in the circle of the 
sick and the poor, is no way necessary. It is not there alone that 
there is need of the free labor of love. In all circles of human 
society, can a field for this be found, if only each one understand 
her own correct limitation and work. 

“ One thing only would I lay to thine heart, that in the forming 
thy life-plan thou shouldst not place the demands upon thee too low ; 
that thy activity be as much as possible a regularly arranged one ; 
and that thou subjectest thyself to a binding rule, and never, with¬ 
out absolute necessity, variest from it.” 

We close with this extract, in regard to woman’s engaging in 
politics, which shows t-he same sensible tone, and gives us a glimpse 
at Germany. “ In general, I believe that the natural capacities of 
woman’s mind are as little favorable to the deeper study of politics 
as to that of mathematics. * * * Women here have no reason 

to lament that they see the entrance to the depths of politics closed 
to them. Alas! there are so many discords there, which it is so 
hard to bring in harmony with the feelings of a soul directed 
by the gospel-truth to a universal philantrophy ! * * * * 
And to what end would her activity here be ? To man, and to 
woman especially, in all efforts, there is ever a need to have a prac¬ 
tical aim before the eyes, and here it must be entirely wanting.” 



CHAPTER V 


EXCURSION TO THE DUCHIES. 

My purpose had been, in visiting this part of Germany, to make 
an excursion into the Duchies of Schleswig and Holstein, both that 
I might see something of a country in a state of war, and because 
this is said to be one of the most truly original parts of Northern 
Europe. The people, as they are fond of boasting, are from the 
old, original Anglo-Saxon stock, from whose coasts came the wild 
freebooters that peopled England and gave to it and to America 
their most vigorous race.* The inhabitants please themselves now 
with tracing their resemblance to the English, and there is much 
attachment among them for that people ; so that the position Eng¬ 
land has taken in their war with Denmark is peculiarly bitter to 
them. The country varies much in the capacities of its soil and its 
appearance. The central tracts running from Altona up as far as 
Flendsburg, are flat and sandy, and in some parts exceedingly 
boggy, with no very productive land. On the west of this, near 

* It will be remembered that the Juti , and Angli, and Frisi who in¬ 
vaded England in the fifth century, and eventually conquered it, came from 
these various districts of Denmark. 


THE DUCHIES. 


45 


the coast of the German ocean, is a wide strip of marshy country, 
but wherever recovered and drained, the best land in North Europe ; 
while on the other side, all along the Baltic, and reaching in near 
the interior lakes, and embracing the small Duchy of Oldenburgh, 
is the pre-eminently fertile land of the Duchies; a country generally 
level and with springy soil, but highly cultivated, and contain¬ 
ing in parts some of the richest pastures and best dairy farms in 
Europe. 

.towards this part of Holstein I directed my journey, purposing 
to go farther into the northern and western districts, if I could ob¬ 
tain the requisite “ permits,” or if the country seemed sufficiently 
safe. 

Encumbered with no luggage, and with only my knapsack and 
walking-stick, I took the omnibus for Altona, a very thriving com¬ 
mercial town, only some three miles down the Elbe from the city, 
and so connected by country-seats and numerous houses of refresh¬ 
ment that it seems almost another quarter of Hamburg. It is 
however, in fact, a prosperous rival in commerce to the larger city, 
and the citizens say, answers too well to its name “ All-zu-nahe,” 

“ All-too-near.” Before this war between the Duchies and Den¬ 
mark, it was second only to Copenhagen in the Danish kingdom, 
both for population and commerce. It took sides strongly with the 
provinces against the king, and has suffered much during this unfor¬ 
tunate war. The inhabitants are mostly of German descent and 
speak the German language, so that they joined heartily in the 
universal movement for a nationality in Germany, and are bitterly 
reluctant to come again under the Danish rule. At Altona my 
plan was to take the cars for Neumiinster, on the railroad which 
connects Hamburg with Kiel and the Baltic. The train was 
delayed somewhat, and I waited at the station. 

3 



50 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY 


A railroad depdt ia North Europe is an entirely different affair 
from anything of the kind with us. The principal and peculiar 
trait which the stranger observes on entering it, is the remarkable 
adaptation of the building for eating and drinking. The whole 
structure may be as large as our best station-houses; but the best 
halls, the finest rooms are reserved for dining and lunching rooms. 

7 O O 

The waiting halls, the baggage-closets, the platforms are small, 
ill-furnished, or inconvenient, but wherever there is any eating to 
be done, you have convenience and even comfort. 

I entered a large, handsome apartment that morning, filled with 
small tables, which even at that early hour (seven o’clock) were 
crowded with various parties, and ordered my glass of coffee and 
rolls. Every variety of class seemed to be gathered there at their 
Fruhstuclc (breakfast). The common Holstein peasant women, with 
their neatly-fitting red boddices and sun-browned faces, eating the 
Wurst (a kind of sausage) and black bread. The men, their huge 
baskets by their side, drinking beer and smoking the long pipes. 
At other tables, soldiers playing cards, with interludes of sour wine 
and bread and butter; officers in dashing helmets reading their 
morning papers over bottles of Rhenish ; travellers in great fur 
wrappers drinking coffee, and ladies sipping tea. All in one room ; 
a cloud of tobacco-smoke rising over it all, and a confused noise 
coming forth of clinking beer glasses, German oaths, jangling sabres, 
and cheerful gossip. 

On each side there appeared to be smaller breakfast rooms, 
where the more select parties met—usually officers of rank going to 
the Holstein camps. At the signal of a bell, we all arose and went 
through different doors marked with the numbers of the three dif¬ 
ferent classes, to get our tickets. Each class had its own ticket- 
office, and there were officers stationed everywhere to prevent 



THIRD-CLASS TRAVEL 


51 


mistake. Scarcely any one, except a few foreign-looking travellers, 
went to the first-class office. I took a place in the third class. 

In England, the great principle of rail-road arrangements as re¬ 
spects third class travelling, is to discourage it in every way possible. 
The “ parliamentary trains ” are always the slowest, the most un¬ 
comfortable, and the most uncertain and inconvenient in times of 
departure and connections, of all the trains. In Germany it is not 
so. The accommodations for the third class are very nearly equal 
to those of the second ; and the time and speed is the same for all 
classes. After the tickets were bought, each of us who had heavy 
baggage went to another office, presented the luggage and the 
ticket, received a baggage receipt, and if the baggage was over¬ 
weight, paid accordingly. At the end of the journey, the baggage 
is returned at the presentation of the receipt. These arrangements 
on all the German roads are remarkably thorough and faithful. I 
have travelled over thousands of miles on them, and never yet saw 
the slightest difficulty on any of them with the baggage of travellers. 
Nor, in fact, have I ever witnessed the smallest accident. The 
double tracks, the sentinels stationed every half-mile, and the very 
strict regulations for the companies, make any dangerous occurrence 
very improbable. 

The cars, or “ carriages,” as the English say, I found differenty 
arranged from our own. In place of one long apartment running 
through the whole car, there are several different compartments 
entered from the sides, and with seats extending from one door to 
tho other. In the first class, the coupes or partitioned parts con¬ 
tained only two or four seats, each a cushioned arm-chair, as in our 
own cars, though not half so elegant. The divisions in the second 
and third classes can contain each some twelve or fourteen persons, 
sitting on two lines of seats facing each other. The third class seats 



52 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


have no cushion, and the second only a thin hair covering. Smoking 
was forbidden on these cars in notices, printed in some three or four 
different languages; and I should not exaggerate in saying, that 
there were no less than three or four different “ nationalities,” smoking 
all tobacco from the strongest “ Virginia ” to the mildest Hungarian, 
in every compartment of every car! The military-looking man, who 
at once demanded our passports and our tickets, kept a cigar smoking 
in one hand behind him while he took them with the other. 

The only other thing which struck me as peculiarly foreign in 
the arrangements, was the locking every door, just before the trains 
started. There is no rail-road either on the continent, or in Eng¬ 
land, which will at all compete with the American roads in the 
convenience and elegance of the carriages. Even the “ royal cars ” 
have not that grace and airiness, and the conveniences attached 
which belong to our common cars; and the providing of a stove, 
or of an apartment for sickness in a rail-car is altogether unknown 
in Europe. 

Our ride this day towards Neumunster was at first quite unin¬ 
teresting—the country fiat and dreary, and so like many of the 
sandy and boggy tracts along our rail-roads at home, that, sunk in 
my newspaper, I had quite forgotten I was in a strange land, until 
the “ Wohl bekommts /”■—“ May it be well with thee! ”—from a 
little girl opposite, at my sneeze, reminded me I was not at all in 
Yankee land. Farther on, the country became gradually more in¬ 
teresting. There were more cultivated farms, and various little vil¬ 
lages, with the red-tiled roofs, and high-pointed gables. Pretty 
hedges, too, began to appear over the whole country, much like the 
English. They are raised on mounds, and many of them are of 
small beach trees. There were signs along the road of a country in 
a state of war Crowds of soldiers stood at the different stopping 



AFOOT AGAIN! 


53 


places, and filled up the cars, hastening; on generally towards Rends- 
burgh, near which is the central camp of the army. They were 
young, and seemed in high spirits, and were apparently farmers and 
business men, drafted in to fill up the army, so much thinned by 
some of these late assaults. Many of them had almost the Prussian 
uniform, especially the round smooth helmet, with a spike in the 
!/>p. Near one or two of the stations were hospitals, and the sight 
of men walking about with bandages, or limping on their crutches, 
and with weapons battered and worn, began to make War seem a 
reality. My car was occupied by the peasants for the most part, and 
I was much struck with their politeness to one another. Every 
clumsy j Bauer that tumbled in with his bags, or that left the cars, 
wished us all “ good morning,” with the greatest ease and politeness; 
and the Kiel students, who came in with their jaunty caps and long 
pipes, bowed to the old apple women as they would have done to 
ladies. 

At Neumiinster I left the rail-road and struck off on foot eastward 
towards the “Ploner See” a large interior lake. It was reallfy 
exhilarating to be travelling away on foot again—knapsack on my 
back and walking-stick in hand—with such perfect independence of 
vehicles and conveniences. I have traversed something of Europe 
in this way; and over an interesting country, I know no more ex¬ 
citing mode of journeying. There is a dash of adventure in it all 
the while. You meet strange comrades, see what books and trav¬ 
ellers do not tell of much ; and can have many achat with common 
people in their own homes. There is so much less of the usual 
traveller’s annoyance of cheating and bargaining. It is all so inde¬ 
pendent. I was, at this time, in very good condition for walking, 
having just “ finished ” the highlands of Scotland, and accordingly 
felt nothing to lessen the interest of the walk. There was something 



54 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


stimulating to my fancy in the idea of journeying over this old 
patriarchal country. I found much, too, all along the road new to 
me. The one-story farm-houses with their immensely high peaked red 
roofs ; and the heavy thatched barns quite as handsomely built as 
the houses; the long green banks with the hedges upon them, and 
the huge wagons of wicker were all peculiar to this part of Europe. 
Occasionally, too, I passed a squad of the new recruits, or walked 
through a village where military drilling was going on. I feared 
some interruption, or insult with my foreign look, and travelling 
in this rather peculiar way, but there was never anything of the 
kind. And, I may say here with real thankfulness, that in all my 
wanderings and rough adventures in Europe, at least, on the Conti¬ 
nent, I have never experienced from the lowest or highest classes 
anything but courtesy and kindness. The only annoyances I have 
suffered have been from Governments. 

As I went on in my walk in Eastern Holstein, the country became 
more and more interesting. The beautiful lakes which mark this 
part of Europe began to appear. The banks were all skirted with 
trees to the water’s edge, and were bright now with autumn color¬ 
ing. The foliage is not so brilliantly tinted as with us, yet it has a 
soft, pleasant coloring, and the frequent mingling of the American 
wild vine, (ampelopsis quinquefolia,) throws in a vivid hue with 
striking effect. The waters were filled with pretty little fringed 
islands, and on every side stretched away cultivated fields, with 
hedges or graceful clumps of trees here and there. Over all was 
the soft, rich October light, so that the landscape left upon me an 
indescribable impression of gentleness and peacefulness. And in the 
quiet scene, I forgot that I was entering a land where every green 
valley and hill-side had just been stained by the blood of its best and 
bravest sons. 



A VISIT. 


55 


It was only till after night-fall, that I judged I must be near the 
estate of the gentleman I intended to visit. 

As I could find nothing of it, I turned to a peasant’s cottage, 
knocked and entered a large room which extended the whole 
length of the house. It seemed a stable, as the cows were fas¬ 
tened on one side, though on the other, rooms opened into it. At 
the other end was a great fire burning, and an old woman 
tending it. When she heard me entering, she came forward, and 
in answer to my inquiry, delivered an unintelligible speech in 
Platt Deutsch , (Low German). I repeated, and she apparently 
understood me, while I could make nothing of what she said. 
We laughed at our difficulties; and she called a boy, who took 
my knapsack at her direction, and beckoned to me to fbilow him. 
I walked along after him, and after winding in the twilight through 
a long lane, and then through an avenue of old trees, we reached 
the house. 

I had been growing gradually more and more timid at the idea 
of penetrating thus, a stranger with my limited German, into a 
family who probably knew nothing of English; but my fears were 
quickly removed by the friendly and almost primitive hospitality 
with which I was received, and I was soon in pleasant conversation 
with an excitable young politician, who had served awhile against 
the Danes, and who labored most earnestly to show me the wrongs 
heaped upon the Duchies by the accursed Denmark. Some pleasant 
ladies welcomed us to one of those bountiful German suppers which 
travellers only can fully appreciate, and I listened till a late hour, as 
the “ PolitiJcer ” argued or fought his battles over and described how 
the Danes fled at Schleswig beyond all pursuit or trace, and how 
the canals and ramparts drove back the brave Holsteiners at Fried- 



56 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


richstadt; or while the sisters told their hopes and fears for their 
two brothers in the camp. 

At the close of the evening, I was shown into a iarge “ guest 
chamber ” on the ground floor, and was soon sound asleep on a gen¬ 
uine, old, patriarchal, Saxon bed. 



CHAPTER VI. 


A HOLSTEIN FARM. 

The next morning, as soon as possible after breakfast, I started out 
with the son of my host, the young politician, to see the buildings and 
grounds on the estate. The house itself, like nearly all I have seen of 
the “ proprietors ” ( Guts besitzer) here, is built of oak beams, filled in 
with bricks, similarly to the “ timber houses ” of England. It is 
only one story, but very long and with high pointed roof, covered 
with red tiles. Within, there are great numbers of those large 
rooms which the Germans appear to delight in. Here again, as 
everywhere, are the high porcelain stoves, and beside, heavy articles 
of oak furniture with brass ornaments, giving a most antique air to 
the rooms. There are the same marks which one finds in nearly all 
the German houses of a highly cultivated taste. 

The buildings on most of these estates are arranged in the form 
of a parallelogram. Here, for instance, we passed down the court 
from the house under a fine avenue of lindens, with high roofed 
buildings on each side which had brick walls and windows, and 
looked like dwellings, but were only barns and cattle-stables, until 
we came forth under a gate-way, through a large granary at the 
3 * 


58 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


end of the court. This farm, like most of those in Hoktein, is 
principally a dairy farm, though having large fields of grain. I saw 
in the pastures some hundred and fifty cows, many of them crosses 
of the Ayrshire breed, with the old native Angeln stock. Agricul¬ 
ture is carried to a high degree of perfection in the Duchies. The 
whole system of “thorough draining,” an improvement so little 
known even in our country, with its immense advantage to such a 
soil as this, has been understood and successfully practiced in Hol¬ 
stein nearly eight years. 

We passed in our walk large fields, where wheat, oats and barley 
had befen grown, and long stretches of turnips and carrots for cattle. 
Generally, however, in Holstein, these are not used for cattle-feed— 
the common fodder in winter being hay and corn-straw, with bran 
or oil cake. The barns and stables were all of brick, and were re¬ 
markably comfortable and substantial. 

The horses were of good blood, and were the best I have seen 
out of England. The export of horses from Holstein is one of the 
most profitable branches of business. 

Our path carried us by, also, some of the cottages % of the 
Bauer , or peasants, who are tenants on this estate. They seemed 
many of them to be living in considerable comfort, though the barns 
looked better often than the houses. I observed here again that 
singular arrangement of houses which surprised me the first evening 
in the peasant’s cottage. Large folding-doors at the end of the 
house open into the stable, and the rooms for the family are on one 
side, and entered from this. The high loft above is used for fodder 
and rubbish. Everything is kept so neatly that little inconve¬ 
nience is experienced from this arrangement. The inside rooms 
are often quite tastefully ornamented. 

My host, as I said before, is a landholder—with some 300 acres. 



PEASANTS. 


59 


These large estates of from 100 to 5,000 acres are now mostly 
farmed by tenants. They are reckoned by Laing , at 3,057. The 
land of the Duchies is generally occupied by small proprietors, 
corresponding to our American “ farmers,” on dairy farms support¬ 
ing ten or fifteen cows. These farms, according to the same author¬ 
ity, number 125,150. Originally these estates all had the “ Bauer” 
attached to them, as serfs ; but within forty years, serfdom has been 
entirely done away, and the only remains of it are a kind of per¬ 
petual rent, ( Abgabe ), which a few of the Bauer are still obliged to 
pay, though they are considered owners of the land; somewhat as 
it is on part of the Patroon estates in New York, with the excep¬ 
tion that these tenants are obliged to pay in money, and that 
their estates would be sold at auction, if they refused. Some of 
the Bauer are bona fide owners of the land, and hold large estates, 
with an income in some cases of $10,000 a year. Others are tenants, 
paying rent like the small farmers of England. In a population of 
662,500 souls in the Duchies, there are 67,700 peasants who own 
a house and land; 17,480 who own a house alone; and 36,283 
who are merely day-laborers.* 

A great deal has been done in the Duchies, and indeed in all Ger¬ 
many, for the education of the lower classes. Every man is obliged 
to send his children to school, or he is exposed to a fine. Advance¬ 
ment in the army, attaining of the commonest state offices and even 
confirmation in the church is made dependent, in a greater or less 
degree, on the previous education. Yet I am bound to say, I am 
struck everywhere with the fact—a fact which all good men in 
Germany deeply feel—that the great results of education are net 
apparent in their lower classes. The peasants can write and read, 


* Laing’s Denmark. 



60 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


and cast up accounts, but they never have been taught to think . 
There is very little active intelligence among them, very little which 
would fit them to support a system of self-government. When we 
talk of our grand system of schools and colleges at home, it may 
be worth while to remember that they are not by any means all 
the basis of our education. The American people has been passing 
through, and is passing still through, an education very different 
from what is gained from either books or lectures. 

It is always hazardous, accounting for the condition of a whole 
people on one cause; but I would say, that if any one thing could 
be found which deadened all religious life, and along with it, all 
intellectual life in the peasantry of Germany, it is this making Reli¬ 
gion and the developments of religion a subject of Law. Wher¬ 
ever I have been in Germany, the conversation has fallen very 
naturally on this “ Confirmation-lawand I have never yet heard 
any sound reason given for it. By this enactment, no man can 
attain to any civil office, no man can be a pedlar or a soldier, 
or even claim the protection of his country’s law, without having 
first made a solemn confession of his faith and hope, and received 
confirmation from his pastor. The natural consequence is, that 
every Bauer comes to look upon the profession of his faith much as 
he does upon his drill and his tax-paying, as a task commanded by 
government, which he had better go through with quietly, and so 
save himself from fine. But the deep experience in religion, as an 
individual matter of the heart; the personal interest in the church 
and in the preacher; the consciousness of sympathy with those who 
have united voluntarily for good objects, he very seldom feels. It 
Holstein, and wherever I travel in Germany, I hear constant com¬ 
plaints of the very little interest taken by the lower classes in 
religion, and in the institutions of worship. They are honest and 



CONFIRMATION, 


6J 


moral and industrious; but as to troubling their minds very much 
about the Being above them, or a future, that is quite anothei 
matter. They are content to go on, as their fathers have gone 
before them, to smoke their pipe and drink their coffee, go to church 
as little as possible, and then quietly and easily drop away from life. 

It is a sad picture, perhaps one of the saddest to draw of any 
people. Yet, I am compelled to believe it is true. 

Many of the Germans will defend this law on the ground that 
the great object of it, is education ; to give the State everywhere 
educated servants, and that the religious confession is only a side 
matter. Others, with the usual tendency of the nation, will carry 
you back to the original “ foundation-idea” of government, as includ¬ 
ing in it that of church and of education also. 

Waiving this last argument here, as somewhat too remote in the 
mists of metaphysics, we may say, as far as mere education is con¬ 
cerned, or as far as the idea of religious life being generally a 
gradual development is included, we could not have so strong an 
objection to this system of the Germans. But the whole appear¬ 
ance of the law, and the general effect, is something entirely differ¬ 
ent from this. It is, in fact, compelling a man, by formidable 
punishments, to do that which of all acts of his life should be the 
freest and the truest—to make publicly a profession of religious 
belief and religious obligations; and the natural effects seem to me 
easily foreseen. 

But to return to the Holstein farm, where I was walking around 
among the Bauer-houses and in the harvest fields. The morning 
was very pleasant, and my friend took me up to a hill from which I 
could get a good view of the neighboring country. It was a beau¬ 
tiful land. My eye passed over a wide landscape of gently-sloping 
hills, and smooth fields, and graceful clumps of beeches and elms, 



62 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


the whole mellowed by the soft tint which autumn-light throws 
over everything; while far in the distance we could just see the 
sparkle of the first of the lakes which vary so beautifully the surface 
of Eastern Holstein. There were green hedges everywhere, and the 
whole had the appearance of a quiet, peaceful English landscape. 
It was one of the last scenes which would remind one of fierce fight 
and bloodshed and war. Yet it is such quiet country-scenes as this 
all over Holstein, which have been trampled and wasted in this 
hotly-contested struggle. Every one of its features has had its 
influence in the war. The hedges which beautify the whole coun¬ 
try of the Duchies, planted as they are upon high mounds, have 
almost entirely prevented the use of cavalry by either party, and 
have afforded excellent shelter for the rifleman. The low, level 
character of the land, and the frequency of lakes, has given the 
Danes their greatest defence—the inundations which they could 
cause around their works; while the gentle, easily-sloping hills, 
have prevented the opportunity everywhere for very strong defences, 
except in the cities. 

My companion was a very intelligent person, and despite my 
imperfect German, we discussed everything about both America 
and the Duchies, which would interest either of us. 

On our walk back to the house, we passed through a large 
garden, showing not by any means such careful cultivation as the 
fields. 

In such a family, and with so many interesting objects around, a few 
days passed very pleasantly. The whole life here has something ex¬ 
tremely generous, and almost oriental, about it. When we meet in 
the morning at “ morning coffee,” we all shake hands as if we had been 
to a distant country, and wish each other almost solemnly the morning 



DOMESTIC HABITS AND CHARACTER. 


63 


salutations. Every one pays great deference to the father, a simple, 
dignified old man ; and the Bauer come up constantly to the house 
as though they were members of the family, for his advice and assist¬ 
ance. And as I walked over the farm, I observed that every la¬ 
borer and boy we met, took off his hat, and the master did the 
same. We meet again about eleven for the breakfast, a more for¬ 
mal meal. Here, as nearly everywhere in Germany where thanks 
are offered at all at a meal, it is done in silence —a much more im¬ 
pressive ceremony, than our hurried, careless form. It is very diffi¬ 
cult for most persons to preserve the life in words so often repeated, 
or to invent new words for each occasion; but in these few moments 
of solemn stillness, thoughts can be breathed which are really 
prayer. 

After this morning meal, comes the principal business of the day; 
and in this family, the ladies do the principal part of the housework. 
Again in the middle of the afternoon, we meet at the great meal of 
the day, the dinner. This is a long, social meal, with a strange 
variety of dishes, which I will not try to enumerate. After it is 
over, we all rise and shake hands, with the words, “ Gesegnet die 
Mahlzeitf (blessed be the meal!) in a quite serious manner; then 
follows coffee in the sitting room, and in the beginning of the even¬ 
ing again, tea and biscuit; and at the end, another hearty supper 
of meats, &c. 

In education and refinement, the whole family would compare 
favorably with the families of our best farmers at home. The father 
is very much like some of the English country gentlemen I have 
seen, in the genial, hospitable way he has ; yet his politeness seems 
much more from the heart than theirs, and there is much less that 
is coarse and animal about him. He drinks the light wine, but 
does not seem to consider it at all a duty, that he should force every 



64 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


guest to drink till he is under the table. They were all well-read, 
and I was surprised to find that Cooper’s novels had penetrated 
there, (in translation,) and that they were deeply interested in them. 
Of course they were thinking and talking mostly of the war; and, 
like nearly all I meet, they could not but acknowledge, how little 
object there was in it. 

As one reads in the Times how England and Russia on one side, 
and Prussia on the other, stand looking down upon this little War 
of the Duchies, ready like sportsmen in the ring, to bet now on this 
side and now on that, and admiring complacently the “ pluck” of 
the two combatants, one gets a very different idea of the struggle 
from what one does when among the parties. Here every man’s 
heart and soul are in the war, as a struggle for independence from 
the hated Danes; and the issue assumes a terrible aspect to them, 
as they see that life and property will depend on it. 

This family had two sons in the army ; and as I saw that day 
the trembling anxiety of the mother for the news from the camp— 
and as I heard from the sisters, how in the battle of Idstedt, which 
was not very far from them, they listened all day to every boom of 
the cannon with beating hearts—and how happy the home was 
when the news came that their brothers were unhurt—I felt how 
terrible a thing, even on the smallest scale, this “ War' 1 is! My 
friend had served awhile in the army, and we had many conversa¬ 
tions on this contest with Denmark. I have since seen many of the 
party of the Duchies, and have read quite thoroughly the docu¬ 
ments and state papers issued in regard to the grounds of the war. 
Of the questions at issue, I shall have more to say hereafter. 

But ihe melancholy thing about it all is—whichever side has the 
right—that all this loss of life, and bombarding of cities, and 
desolating of happy provinces, is of no use so far as the result is 



THE RESULT. 


G5 


concerned. The destiny of Schleswig-Holstein will be decided 
by diplomatists far away; and the great powers of Europe, which¬ 
ever side gain the victory, will settle the disputed question them¬ 
selves. 



CHAPTER VII. 


HOLSTEIN AND THE CAMPS. 

October, 1S50. 

I felt as if parting from old friends, when after a few days’ stay, 

I shook hands with each one of the family, and started off in my 
host’s carriage for the neighboring town of Eutin. The country 
all through this part of Holstein is very beautiful. I was con¬ 
stantly reminded of England, in the gently sloping hills and hedges^ 
and level, carefully tilled fields. The farm houses, howe ver, are not 
at all English; being, as I before mentioned, usually only of one 
story, with a high pointed roof, covered either with thatch or red 
tile. There are pretty lakes too, scattered all through -the country 
—and groves, where sometimes on the estates of the large proprie¬ 
tors, the trees are grouped with a great deal of taste. Eutin, (pro¬ 
nounced Oiteen,) which we reached in a few hours, is the capital of 
the little Duchy of Oldenburgh—a province situated in the midst 
of the Duchies, but belonging to Oldenburgh. There is nothing, 
however, very remarkable about it; it being only the usual collec¬ 
tion of red-roofed houses, with a modern castle, bearing a strong 
resemblance to one of our factories. The town and the province 
have thrived well through these neighboring wars; for they escape 
entirely the burdens which press upon the Duchies, while they find 
a far readier market for their produce. 


A POLITICAL MEETING. 


67 


I took up my quarters at once in the best inn—and a very pleas¬ 
ant specimen of a neat German inn, it was. A large, handsomely- 
furnished room with a fire ; a boy kept in attendance; my 
meals sent up, and everything arranged in the most com¬ 
fortable way—all, as I afterwards found, at the price of cents a 
day ! 

I spent a day or two in the place, and had the pleasure of attend¬ 
ing, in company with some friends, a political meeting, summoned 
to collect subscriptions for Schleswig-Holstein. I was quite curious 
to see how they would conduct it. When I entered, the speaker 
and every one else, from the “ Amtmann” (county-magistrate) down¬ 
wards, were puffing at their cigars. The principal speaker of the 
day, however, denied himself this universal luxury; and, apparently 
not being much accustomed to extempore speaking, contented him¬ 
self for sometime, with reading minutes of the great convention at 
Hanover for the Duchies, as well as various spirited appeals, issued 
by the Assembly. When he did address the meeting, it was in a 
very melancholy, drowsy tone, which would have been utterly irre¬ 
sistible to the heavy-looking farmers assembled, ha4 it not been for 
the cigars. However, his appeal for the Holsteiners, on the ground 
of their longings for a share in the “ German Nationality,” evidently 
found an answer in the breasts of very many, and after the meeting, 
considerable enthusiasm was shown in the planning for collecting 
subscriptions. 

One cannot readily imagine in America, how very little facility 
there is in Germany in extempore speaking. I was talking with a 
German lately about the Peace Congress in Frankfort, and I hap¬ 
pened to ask him, why there were so few speakers from Germany 
there. He replied, he supposed it was from the little practice the 
Germans had in that kind of speaking. And I have found that 



68 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


very generally, they acknowledge their inferiority in it. Yet this 
inferiority must be only from want of practice ; for in private, I have 
seldom heard men speak with more enthusiasm and readiness. 

My time in Eutin, in spite of its being so uninteresting a place, 
passed very pleasantly. There were some army officers stationed 
there, and very social and intelligent fellows I found them. I know 
not how to express my pleasure, the more I see of Germany, in the 
social, kindly character of the people. It seems almost as if the 
usual selfishness of humanity were laid aside in some respects. 
When you ask a man the way in a city, half the time he will go 
around one or two squares to show you it. If you are in a hotel or 
any public place, and are in difficulty about your route, instead of 
the cold “ its-none-of-my-business” look of an English company, you 
find every one taking an interest in the matter and ready to assist 
you. People do not shut themselves within themselves, as in our 
country or in England ; and when a party meet in a diligence or 
boat, they are ready and expect to talk at once, and not seldom 
about their own private matters. One is surprised to find himself 
forming confidential friendships with acquaintances not twenty-four 
hours old; and as he looks back on a week, he wonders whither 
the caution and coldness which used to distinguish him have de¬ 
parted. And in friendly and almost patriarchal hospitality, the 
Germans, thus far, seem to me unequaled over the world. 

From Eutin, we took the night diligence northward for Kiel, on 
the Baltic. There were four or five travellers, all muffled in those 
huge furs which I have never seen except here, waiting in the 
office of the Eilwagen. They wished me good evening as I entered 
—and we fell at once into pleasant talk. This was continued 
farther, after we had settled each into a comfortable corner of the 
diligence—I having called out an admiring exclamation of praktisch ! 



KIEL. 


69 


(practical!) by shutting up my hat (a spring hat) and putting it in 
my pocket, and drawing on a warm travelling cap. The conversa¬ 
tion, as everywhere, was of War, and the chances for little Holstein. 
It was morning, when we were aroused by rattling into the gates of 
Kiel. 

Kiel is the principal port and city of the Duchies, with a Univer¬ 
sity which has been somewhat famous. It is all quiet and empty 
now, however. The war has pressed hard upon it. Business is 
nearly at stand-still; every class is weighed down by taxes, and the 
best of the population are away in the army. The University is 
closed, for the students are all soldiers; and altogether Kiel 
has very little reason to wish well to the war with Denmark. 

At Kiel, I met with Herr Bargum, the President of the Assembly 
of the States; a man of great power as a speaker, and one of their 
prominent statesmen. He kindly gave me the letters required to 
gain admission to the camps around Rendsburg. Though my opin¬ 
ion, before expressed, that this struggle is not a constitutional struggle , 
has not changed, still I am bound to say, that I find more among 
the party of the Duchies ready for constitutional changes, than I 
had expected. They argue and perhaps justly, that the great mass 
of the common people in the Duchies and in Germany, are not 
yet ready for freedom ; that universal suffrage or a complete Re¬ 
public would only result as it has in France; that the mass must 
first be more educated ; must be accustomed more in small matters 
to self government, ere it will be safe to throw the interests of the 
country entirely into their hands. Accordingly, they are approach¬ 
ing this general freedom gradually. In this new constitution of 
Schleswig-Holstein, the Representative Assembly is composed, I 
think, of one hundred members. Fifty of these are chosen by uni¬ 
versal suffrage; of the remainder twenty are chosen by the cities, 



70 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


twenty by the landed proprietors of a certain moderate revenue, and 
ten by the great proprietors, having a somewhat higher revenue. 
Perhaps in view of the existing circumstances of the country, no 
better arrangement of suffrage could be devised. It is due, however, 
to Denmark to say, that an equally liberal Constitution would pro¬ 
bably have been allowed the Duchies, if they had been united to 
that kingdom. 

In travelling from Kiel to Rendsburg, I passed through the mid¬ 
dle districts of Holstein—and found here again, the wide tracts of 
level land which are the characteristic of this part of Europe. But 
in general, they were far less fertile in appearance and less cultivated, 
than the eastern parts of this province. As we approached Rends¬ 
burg, we were obliged to stop in one of the neighboring towns, 
through some arrangement of the trains. Everywhere the signs 
again of approach to a scene of war. Officers in handsome uniform 
filled the coffee-rooms; soldiers with well-worn, weather-beaten 
arms drinking in the beer-houses, and a band of Tyrolese Min¬ 
strels were singing with great spirit, a song about Schleswig-Holstein 
and its great deeds, to the air of the “ Marseillaise” while the pa¬ 
triotic ditty of “ Schleswig-Holstein, meerumschlungen /” (Schleswig- 
Holstein, sea-surrounded !) rung on every side. It was certainly not 
a little comical to see on the walls—close by the scene of the opera¬ 
tions themselves —Panoramas advertised of the battles with the 
Danes, Pictures of the onslaught at “ Schleswig,” and of the terri¬ 
ble explosion of the Danish frigate at “ Ekernfiorde”—here almost 
within sound of the cannon, in either battle ! 

Rendsburgh, of course, is under martial law. My pass was de¬ 
manded in the Station House, and as I walked up, in the evening, 
towards the City walls, sentinels met me every few rods, and I 
passed through a guard at the gate. The town was completely 



NEW COMRADES. 


71 


filled with a large body of troops, and I had to try almost every 
hotel before I could find a place. At length, however, I chanced 
upon a hotel, where, the waiter said, two English gentlemen w r ere 
quartered who might be willing to take me in. I was shown up to 
their rooms, stated my case, and was interrupted almost before I 
had begun, by their saying, at once, I was welcome to a share in 
their quarters, and that they were “ right glad to meet any one who 
spoke something besides this d—d Dutch ! ” 

Cigars and Bavarian beer were brought out, as I would drink 
nothing stronger, and we had a merry evening together. I found 
they were English army officers, who had been spending the sum¬ 
mer salmon-fishing in Norway, of which they related marvellous 
stories in the sporting way. They had come here, on the strength 
of their military rank, to inspect the works. 

The next morning I presented my letters, and rambled over the 
town. It must have been before the war a quiet shady, pleasant 
country town, now, it is full of bustle and noise. Large battalions 
of soldiers were exercising in the square; heavy artillery wagons 
thundering along the pavement, and the streets were crowded with 
every description of person and vehicle—dashing young officers on 
gay horses; peasants with baskets of vegetables on their heads; 
huge market wagons with provisions for the troops; little parties of 
soldiers with the smooth helmets running up to a spike in the top ; 
and all the innumerable characters which a camp attracts. 

Yet both that day and the next, despite the numbers crowded 
into the little city, I saw scarcely any outward signs of dissipation— 
and I am inclined to believe that many of the worst evils of war, in 
the ungovernable crimes it engenders, are escaped thus far in this 
War of the Duchies. 

One of my acquaintances, by good luck, happened to be a soldier 



72 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


who was on furlough from another town, and he walked out of the 
gates to show me the route through the camps. Here again I had 
an instance of this German “ GutmuthigTceit ,” (good nature). All 
that I had expected, at the most, in my acquaintance, was some 
good advice about the best course among the many roads around 
the town. But, instead of that, he insisted on accompanying me, 
guided me everywhere, introduced me to his friends, and in all must 
have walked some fifteen or eighteen miles with me that day! 

As we went out of the city, the first thing that struck the eye 
was the flat, unbroken country all around the walls. It is naturally 
a plain, and now every high tree and bush and hillock is “ rasirt ,” 
(shaved off*) as they say, to give free range to the cannon. About the 
town itself there are two ranges of solid brick and turf wall, with a 
wide moat before each. These moats are supplied with water from 
the Eider, and are used as canals. Farther on, some half mile from 
the walls, my companion pointed me out a range of “ Schanzen or 
forts, on various heights at a considerable distance from one another, 
encircling the city. The roads, as we went on, became worse and 
worse, from the heavy travel over them, and we were met constantly 
by various parties hurrying into Rendsburgh; the “ Dragoner ” splash¬ 
ing through the mud—the infantry officers riding in the large basket¬ 
like farm wagons; and the privates, with the short sword which 
they all wear, working their way like ourselves along the pavement. 
My friend, whose eye was quicker than mine in detecting distant 
military movements, would occasionally stop to show me, far off on 
the heights, some black mass, which only from its motion I could 
discern to be soldiers, or point out at a long distance on the plain, 
quick moving objects, which he said were the horse artillery in 
exercise. 

The whole country was evidently filled with troops. In fact, there 



MY GUIDE. 


73 


are about 4,000 men now in Rendsburgh, and some 10,000 in the 
works around it. We walked on in very pleasant conversation for 
some distance. Though a private soldier, this man was a highly 
educated person ; had been a student in Kiel, when the war broke 
out, and having some influence in his native town, he had collected a 
company of recruits and joined the army. It must have been almost 
entirely from motives of patriotism, for he knew that, like the rest, 
he must go through his term of service as a private. He was evi¬ 
dently sick of the life of a common soldier, though he was too manly 
to complain. I saw that all the officers treated him in a very equal 
manner—and he says that all distinctions of rank among them, 
when not on duty, are very nearly lost. In him, and the many I 
saw, I was struck with the quiet determination manifested, to push 
the contest through. They all say, that the German recruits are 
rather chilled at the little high enthusiasm they find when they come 
on; they cannot understand the calm, settled resolve which the 
army feels. 

The first encampment we found in a small village of Bauer- 
houses. The soldiers are quartered with the peasants. My friend, 
or the “ Doctor,” as they call him, had an acquaintance here, and 
we stopped at one of the houses to see him. He was a lieutenant, 
and occupied with his “ Sub,” one part of the house, while the 
farmer and his wife, and three cows and some horses, lived in the 
other. He had been a student, as well as his under-officer, and they 
received my companion most cordially. A huge mass of roast beef 
and potatoes was soon brought on, and without apology from them 
or us, we fell to most heartily ; and lighting our cigars, we talked 
for a long time over the comparative merits of the American and 
Holstein equipments, and the general ills and jovialities of a soldier’s 
life. They are all tired enough of the war, but they are fully con- 
4 



74 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


fident they can beat the Danes. In fact, they have some reason to 
be confident; it is long since the Danes have ventured to meet them 
in open field. After passing through this encampment, I went in 
company with this officer and the “ Doctor,” on towards the outer 
works of the line, which has thus far been the separation between 
the Danish and Holstein armies. 

If any one will look at the map, it will be seen that the boundary 
line between the Duchy of Holstein and Schleswig is the River 
Eider, and a Canal, connecting it with the Baltic. On this river is 
Rendsburgh, and it may be consider^, for some distance at least, 
as the base line of the position of the Holstein army. The works 
around Rendsburgh, the centre of this line, reach some twenty miles, 
forming a very strong position. Where we were, on a high hill a 
short distance within the outer line, we had a fine view of it all. On 
the right, stretched away a beautiful lake, fringed with the bright 
colored woods. This, together with the Eider, formed the great 
cover of the right wing, though between it and the Eider, strong 
works had been thrown up. In front, was a smaller lake, so that 
any attack must be made either between these two lakes, or upon 
the left. The ground between them was well defended by “ Schan- 
zen ,” with palisades and deep ditches, perhaps the strongest works 
on the line ; while the left part of the centre was secured naturally 
by a series of rocky heights, on all which, fortifications with bomb¬ 
proof block houses and the usual appurtenances had been placed. 
Far away on the left, could be seen the reflection of water, which 
was the overflowing of a branch of the Eider, and which, along with 
that river, effectually secured their left wing from attack. On all 
the fortified heights I observed telegraph poles, with arrangements 
for communicating at once to head quarters, the news of attack, 
either by day or night. These heights could be seen rising at vari- 



THE OUT-WORKS. 


75 


ous intervals through all the country, between the outer lines and 
the city. On the whole, it seemed a very strong position, not easily 
to he turned by the Danes, even if they felt disposed to attempt it, 
which they appear very far from doing. 

The Danes themselves occupy a line reaching from Ekernfiorde on 
their left, to Friedrichstadt on the right, having Schleswig for the 
centre. The last attack had been made by the Holsteiners on the 
right on Friedrichstadt; and before that, on the left, so that many 
expected the next attempt to force their position, in the centre, on 
Schleswig. The probability is, that the Holstein General, Von 
Willisen, is waiting now for more recruits, which come in constantly 
from Germany, as well as for the approach of winter, which will 
give an opportunity to force the position of the Danes, where they 
are defended by the inundations. Though for my part, I do not see 
why this last would not be an advantage to one side as well as the 
other. The Danes would at least be cut off from the aid of their 
ships by the winter, which would be a great disadvantage to them. I 
notice the English papers dwell much on the sacred regard for trea¬ 
ties, apparent in the conduct of the Danish monarch, in thus carefully 
keeping himself within the boundaries of his ancestral duchy. Any 
one, however, who examines the position of the Holstein line may 
find some other fully as influential, though not quite so flattering, 
motives for this great self restraint. 

The country, which stretched out on all sides around the hill 
where we were, was singularly mild and peaceful in its aspect. The 
flat, barren land around the city, had changed into a fertile and 
gently undulating country, with clumps of trees scattered over it, 
with that soft and pleasant outline, which everything wears under 
*he autumn sunlight. The fortifications seemed only like fresh 
mounds in the distance, and the peasants were ploughing or sowing 




76 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY 


their barley, right under the mouths of the cannon. Before us lay 
the lakes with hardly a ripple on their surface, and far away, 
gleamed peacefully in the light, the waters of a branch of the 
Eider. It was not at all a scene of blood. It was difficult to 
realize, as one looked at it all, that it had so lately been trampled 
and stained in fierce fight. As I looked closer down, however, at 
the calm scene before us, I could gradually discern a long black 
line, moving through the valley, which soon resolved itself into 
smaller lines; then in front of us a dark object could be seen, mov¬ 
ing towards the small lake, and extending itself into a line, and on 
the heights similar objects were stirring; and it needed no longer 
observation to ascertain that this whole “peaceful” country was 
filled with heavy masses of troops. 

As we went down from the hill, we passed through a valley where 
there had been lately a battle with the Danes, and the blackened 
ruins of a farm house showed its effects. As we passed through 
the next range of fortifications, one of the Bauer houses appeared 
almost entirely surrounded by a “ Schanze,” (fort) and the chickens 
and sparrows were flying about among the cannon and breast¬ 
works. 

The next encampment we visited, was far less comfortable than 
those nearer the city, the quarters being mud and log huts, with no 
flooring except straw! My companions had some acquaintance 
here, and we went into one of the huts. We found four officers 
quartered there, evidently doing their best to make their hard life a 
jovial one. They welcomed us very heartily; coffee and cigars 
were produced, and we talked over the rough table for a long time. 
They had all been students ; one was a student of theology ; and 
damp and cold as the low hut was, they managed to get a great 
deal of fun o ut of their wild life. Still, they and the privates have 



THE RETURN. 


77 


Buffered much from the wet cold weather of late, and I should think 
were heartily tired of the war, though they may all be determined 
not to yield, in the contest. Very naturally their dislike to the 
•Danes has not at all decreased by this two years fighting. 

We returned at night, and the heavy rumbling of cannon and 
the creak of wagons, sounded incessantly on the main road from the 
gates. It was the preparation for a night attack, expected from the 
Danes. I found on my return, the English officers still in the hotel. 
They had been treated very politely by the General—as the English 
are now—and had seen all the works, and though military men are 
rather critical in such matters, professed themselves entirely 
satisfied. 

Thus ended my day in the Holstein camp ; a passing glimpse into 
the interior of that struggle which has so agitated the North of 
Europe, and whose heart-burnings and bitter animosities, yet surviv¬ 
ing, shall burst forth fearfully in another convulsion of Europe. 



CHAPTEK VIII. 


THE DIFFICULTIES BETWEEN DENMARK AND THE DUCHIES. 

It is now about six years since a member of tbe Danish “ Assem¬ 
bly,’’ then in session at Roeskilde, rose with the following motion: 
that “ The States’ Assembly propose that the King should solemnly 
declare Denmark, Schleswig-Holstein and Lauenburg a single indi¬ 
visible kingdom, and that this indivisible kingdom, according to the 
Danish crown-law, should become the inheritance of the female pos¬ 
terity of Frederick III.” 

From this motion we may date the commencement of the pre¬ 
sent troubles between the Duchies and Denmark. It is true, 
before this time, since the year 1808 and the accession of Frederick 
VI. to the throne, Denmark had been accused of constantly 
encroaching on the Duchies, both in introducing the Danish lan¬ 
guage and in converting State-institutions into National; and a 
tendency to separation from the Danish crown had been given by 
the fact of Holstein’s being included in the German confederacy. 
Still no very decided manifestations were made till this motion was 
put forward. The effect of it was stirring. Addresses poured in 
from every part of the Duchies to the “ States,” then meeting at 
Itsehoe, and a “ Bill of Rights” was at once prepared by them, and 
sent to the king, containing the three great Articles, which lie, as 


“ THE OPEN LETTER.” 


79 


they claim, at the basis of their political rights, and to support 
which, they have entered on this bloody war. 

I. That the Duchies are Independent States. 

II. That the male line rules in the Duchies. 

III. That the Duchies, Schleswig and Holstein, are States united 
to one another. 

From this time till the year 1846, there was no open hostility 
except in the press, between the two parties, when there appeared 
what is called “ The Open Letter” of the King of Denmark. As 
this is much referred to, in this dispute, and, in some degree, will 
determine the justice of the Holstein cause, it may be well to 
mention particularly some of the positions taken in it. 

The Letter is addressed to his subjects, and after some preliminary 
remarks, the king states that he had placed this whole question of 
the Inheritance of the Duchies in the hands of an able committee, 
and that after a deliberate investigation, they had reported that the 
Duchy of Schleswig comes under the same law of inheritance by 
which the kingdom of Denmark is governed. But, that in regard 
to the Duchy of Holstein, there were certain parts where doubts 
existed as to their being included under the Danish law, and in con¬ 
sequence being necessarily assured to the loyal line. Yet, the king 
continues, every effort will be given to do away with these objec¬ 
tions, and to preserve the unity of the Danish State, and to unite 
under one sceptre, all these various divisions of the country, in such a 
manner that they shall never be separated. And he assures the 
people of Schleswig that in thus uniting that State with the 
Danish monarchy, it is not in the least his intention to encroach 
upon its independence, or to produce the slightest change in its 
close relations with the Duchy of Holstein. 

There were not a few things in this letter which would naturally 



80 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


be exceedingly disagreeable and even alarming, to the people of the 
Duchies. In the first place, there appears to be in it a recognizing 
of the independence of the Duchies, as a matter of favor, while 
they had always claimed that their independence did not in the 
least depend on the will of their ruler. Then again, the laws of 
inheritance, which had always governed them, as they viewed it, 
were by this entirely annulled, and they were placed under a foreign 
law, and therefore under a foreign race. While the old laws, estab¬ 
lished by their fathers, were in force, they would fairly and justly 
abide by them, and remain connected with a foreign State; but 
when, in the natural course of events, these had become abrogated, 
they “ wished under their own Dukes, to join in the movement for 
the unity of the great German Fatherland.” 

Beside this, the position taken by the King, that Holstein was not 
included under the same laws with Schleswig, seemed like an attempt 
to separate those two States,—a measure, which would be very 
alarming to all those in both, who believed that the prosperity and 
independence of the two Duchies depended on their union. Still 
less was the expression approved of, in which the King spoke of 
“ preserving the unity of the Danish State,”—and of bringing under 
one government all these divisions of the country, ( Landestheile.) 

This letter and the “ Remonstrances” succeeding it, were followed 
by an extended war of “ Petitions,” on the people’s part, and “ De¬ 
clarations” on the king’s, until it was finally made known publicly, 
that the king would receive no more bills or petitions from “ The 
States,” on the subject of the Laws of Inheritance. Many of these 
“ Declarations ” and “ bills” are written with great eloquence, and 
show a people thoroughly aroused in the contest. They are inter¬ 
esting, many of them, from the great similarity in tone with those 
of our revolutionary patriots. The same elaborate respect to royal 



THE CONSTITUTION. 


8 


authority, while they are busily engaged in undermining it; the 
same charitable assumption, that it is the ministers who are thus con¬ 
spiring against a loyal people, and that the king is only an unhappy 
tool. There are respects, however, in which they are widely differ¬ 
ent from the documents of our Revolutionary days, as I shall show 
afterwards. To the political student, these papers are interesting; 
they are not necessary to an understanding of the question now at 
issue. 

After these “ Declarations,” came spirited appeals to the German 
Fatherland, which was now becoming deeply interested in the dis¬ 
pute. Even the “ German League,” or Bund , put forth a resolution 
favoring the cause of the Duchies; so that the result was another 
letter from the king, assuring the disaffected States of their inde¬ 
pendence and of his desire to preserve them in union. At this 
point, in the year 1848, affairs were changed somewhat by the 
death of the King, and by the accession to the throne of his suc¬ 
cessor, Frederick VII. 

The first efforts of the new king were to pacify his subjects by 
the grant of that panacea for all evils—a “ Constitution,” to the 
whole kingdom. By this Constitution there was to be a “ General- 
Assembly ” of the representatives both of Denmark and the Duchies, 
meeting alternately in the different countries ; with such powers as 
would enable them to legislate on the various changes necessary in 
finance and other matters, throughout the kingdom ; and it was 
assured that, by this new “ Assembly,” nothing would be changed 
of those laws which granted the meeting of provincial “ States” oi 
“Chambers” (Stdnde), or which secured the other right before men¬ 
tioned, of the Duchies. 

In addition to this, the king proposed a law for lightening the 
extremely strict supervision of the press, which had before existed 
4 * 



82 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


in Holstein—and for entirely doing away in some cases with the 
censorship. None of these conciliatory measures appear to have 
given satisfaction ; and a very bold address was presented from A1 
tona, demanding (1), the entire freedom of the press; (2), the free¬ 
dom of holding any kind of meetings desired; and (3), the privilege 
of forming a citizen militia. 

To this was added a demand for a new Constitution for the Duchies 
based on the freest democratic principle; the responsibility of the 
minister to their Assembly ; the power of sending representatives to 
the German Confederacy ; and the formation of new courts, on the 
principle of Jury Courts —(Geschwornen gerichte .) 

Similar addresses—or addresses revolutionary in character—were 
presented by the higher classes, the prelates and nobles, as well as 
by the citizens. And it was apparent that the hostility to the gov¬ 
ernment was very deep and wide spread. The first open outbreak 
occurred on the 24th of March, 1848, in Kiel, when the news ar¬ 
rived of the formation in Copenhagen of an ultra Danish ministry, 
and of the probability of their endeavoring to incorporate the Duchies 
by arms, in the Danish kingdom. A provisional government was at 
once formed in Kiel, the military enrolled—and the Duchies were 
proclaimed free, independent States. Movements of the same kind 
Commenced throughout the two provinces, more especially in Hol¬ 
stein, which is more decidedly German in its character, and addresses 
were made to the throne, containing the same demands as those 
mentioned above. A letter appeared, too, of the King of Prussia, 
supporting these demands, at least as far as the independence and 
union of the Duchies was concerned. 

This was the day of Revolutions, when the old monarchies of 
Europe threatened all to be swept away by the storm. The king 
wisely bowed to it, and in an answer to a Deputation of the 



THE RESULTS. 


83 


States, he said that, in view of all these circumstances, it was his 
intention to grant to Holstein, as an independent member of the 
German Confederacy, a Constitution based on the most liberal prin¬ 
ciples of suffrage ; that he was ready to secure with this, the right 
of the freedom of the press, and the full power of forming a citizen 
militia; and that this province should, as soon as circumstances 
would allow, have its own separate finance. He should not be un¬ 
favorable, besides, to the formation of a powerful German parlia¬ 
ment, representing the people, so much desired. But in regard to 
Schleswig, it was his duty to say, that he “ had neither the right, 
nor the power, nor the will, to incorporate it in the German Con¬ 
federacy.” But, by a free constitution, and at the same time, by 
preserving its provincial institutions, he was resolved to attach it, 
unimpaired in its independence, to the Danish monarchy. 

This is the last public document containing a statement of the 
points at issue, and may be considered as presenting the policy 
against which the Duchies are now contending. Many “ Addresses ” 
and “ Proclamations” follow on both sides, which, though eloquent, 
throw no light on the question. 

This answer of the king was made in March, 1848. In the fol¬ 
lowing April, hostilities were in full progress. The events succeed¬ 
ing this, for the last two years, need not be related, though they 
will be interesting topics for history. The struggle of the Duchies 
with the crown; the marching in of the Prussian troops, and the 
terror they everywhere inspired to the Danes ; the annoyance caused 
to Prussia by the blockade of her Baltic provinces, and the disa¬ 
greements between her troops and their allies, all resulting finally in 
her leaving the Provinces to fight out the contest themselves—im¬ 
portant events, but not especially affecting the merits of the con¬ 
test, on one side or the other. 



84 


SOCIAL LlfcE IN GERMANY. 


The great powers of Europe have taken a very deep interest in 
this war—much greater than its importance would seem to claim. 
And, perhaps to their own surprise, England, and France, and Rus¬ 
sia. find themselves side by side in the support of a constitutional 
monarch, contending with his subjects; while the German people 
are glowing with an ardor we can hardly even imagine, to throw 
themselves into the struggle of their “ brothers ” with a foreign 
race ; a race united with that Nation whose mighty power is already 
overshadowing their Eastern provinces. In regard to the English 
position in this contest, it is no easy matter to determine exactly its 
causes. Perhaps the ministry have considered that the entry to the 
Baltic would be much safer to the English, under the guard of a 
weak nation—their ally—than if placed in the power of the great 
German Confederacy,—and the old commercial jealousy may have 
concurred in depressing any efforts of Germany to make herself a 
maritime power. Then, if we come to minor causes, “ The Times ” 
may have happened to take that position and thus led the English 
mind ; or that old English generosity may have arisen, at the sight 
of the pluck of the little Denmark against her formidable adversary, 
Prussia; or to come to the last reason, usual in such cases, the Eng¬ 
lish government may have believed Denmark right in her position 
towards the Duchies. Still, so far as I had an opportunity to ob¬ 
serve in England, there was very little understanding of the question, 
among either the people or the press. 

Russia’s course in the matter is very natural and very easily ex¬ 
plained. It can never be for her interest, that any of the great rival 
powers—especially Germany—should hold the keys of the Baltic, 
and it is not improbable, as is frequently hinted, that some foot-hold 
in that part of the Northern seas may be the reward for the coun- 



UNITY WANTED. 


85 


tenance, and, very probably, the more substantial aid, given to the 
kingdom of Denmark. 

The statement which I have made of the various difficulties and 
disputes between the Duchies and Denmark for the last six years, X 
conceive to be a fair one, and certainly as favorable to those pro¬ 
vinces as truth would allow. It has been gathered mostly from 
their own documents, and from conversation with men of their own 
party. When I came here, I supposed, in common with many of 
the liberal party in England, that this whole contest was a constitu¬ 
tional contest—a struggle of a free oppressed people for their 
rights, and for more liberal institutions. I found, that so it was re¬ 
garded here by many, and I have been, not a few times, reminded 
by Germans of its great similarity to our own struggle for Inde¬ 
pendence. But, the more I examine it, the more I am inclined to 
the opinion, that it is not a constitutional contest at all. 

The Holsteiners have as great a dread of “democratic pro¬ 
gress” as the Danes. I know that German democrats and Hun¬ 
garians are often refused admission into their ranks, that the institu¬ 
tions which they now uphold in their own provinces, are not as free 
as exist in Denmark. And it is only within a few days, I heard of 
men, still confined in the prisons of Altona by the Provincial Gov¬ 
ernment, for libelling that king whom they have been so fiercely 
combating. In connection with this, should be noticed one of the 
inducements for making peace, presented by the members of the 
Peace Convention lately to the Danish Government, namely, that 
“a peace would release them from their obligations to foreign 
diplomacy, and give them an opportunity to develope their 
free institutions.” Is this an inducement to be presented to a 
very conservative government. 

It is to be observed in the history of this contest, that the hos- 



86 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


tility does not begin as in our Revolution, in a complaint of oppres¬ 
sion and a demand for justice and freer institutions. It is only that 
these Duchies should be restored to that intensely loved but most 
mysterious and intangible Union—the German Fatherland; and 
that they should no longer exist as parts of a “ foreign State /” in 
connection with which, it may be remarked, they had been for 
generations. It is not constitutions, nor better institutions, nor freer 
government which they want. Their forefathers had once formed a 
part of the glorious Fatherland, and this is enough! They must 
be members of that dazzling, incomprehensible Fraternity ! Per¬ 
haps it is one-sided in me, but I must confess, I cannot but look 
upon these bloody struggles for such a visionary, impractical idea, 
as most foolish. It certainly is something as if the Celtic Race in 
all parts of the world should shake off the governments over them ; 
fight and bleed, that they might carry out the beautiful idea of one 
great Irish or Gaelic or Celtic Fatherland! I do not mean that the 
analogy holds in all respects. But this struggle for “ German 
Unity” has something of that appearance to the uninitiated 
stranger. 

Since the Revolutions of Europe began, (in 1848), one must 
allow that the insurgents have made truly constitutional demands 
on the Danish Government. But those demands will not be found 
in their official documents the great matters insisted on, and they 
do not seem the great points at issue. Besides, when the king does 
yield his full consent to all these, and still preserves his position in 
regard to the union of Schleswig to Denmark, there does not 
appear the least change in the feelings of the provinces. They are 
determined to be members of the Fatherland, and any other propo¬ 
sition is odious to them. And for my part, I fully believe, that if 
German sympathy and German aid do at length give the victory to 



NOT LIBERTY. 


87 


these insurgent provinces, it will be seen to be no triumph of the 
liberal cause, and, that the institutions which the Duchies will form 
for themselves, will not equal in freedom those they might have had 
under the Danish Government. 

Of the sad and gloomy close of this struggle, and of the prostra¬ 
tion of the Duchies under the iron rule of Austria—events which 
occurred in the succeeding year—I shall have more to say in 
another portion of this volume. 



CHAPTER IX. 


HAMBURG AND THE RAUHE HAUS. 

I was walking out one morning, after my return to Hamburg, 
to call upon my friend, the artist before mentioned, when I came 
suddenly on a sight rather remarkable in such a nineteenth-century 
city as this. A procession of Spanish cavaliers, apparently, was 
passing through the streets; just the same dark-haired men, with 
peaked sombreros, stiff white ruffs, short black cloaks and swords, 
as Velasquez or Rembrandt delighted to paint. They were follow¬ 
ing a coffin. It almost seemed as if I were looking at some touch¬ 
ing tragedy among the exiled hidalgos of Spain. 

My friend laughed when I told him my conceit, and 
assured me that the tragedy was all on the other side—as the 
family of every respectable Hamburger who died, had to pay ten 
dollars apiece for each of those hidalgos —and funerals frequently 
cost now some two hundred Thaler, ($150), much to the trou¬ 
ble of the afflicted families. 

This gentleman was thinking much of emigrating to America. 
“ Europe was no place for art for years to come. All Germany and 
the Continent might be in the full blaze of revolution, in a month, 
at any time. And now” said he. “in such disturbed times, 


FREE TRADE. 


there are few purchasers. Besides Hamburg is far too material a 
city for the encouragement of such a profession. People are weal¬ 
thy and benevolent here, but there is no great inclination for these 
pursuits.” It was too much a commercial city, he thought, 
and was inferior in intellectual tastes to most of the cities of 
Germany. 

Like all who have studied the history of Hamburg, this gentle¬ 
man considered its prosperity due to its long and steady adherence 
to Free Trade. 

The success of this city alone, however, would be no test of the 
Protective question, as it is peculiarly a commercial Republic, and 
can have no great variety of interests to support. Still, it is a fact 
that the four cities in the Hanseatic League, Hamburg, Bremen, 
Liibeck, and Frankfort, did from the beginning adopt a most liberal 
Protective system, and that of all the cities of Germany, these have 
been the most prosperous. 

“ If Germany ever should become one united country,” said this 
gentleman; “ for which I most devoutly pray, Hamburg would be 
the most important point of all North Germany. It would be the 
outlet for all our commerce and naval enterprise. There is no situ¬ 
ation like it. Here on one of the greatest rivers of Germany— 
connected by rail-roads with Prussia, Saxony, Austria, and Hanover; 
and with an excellent harbor, what might we not expect for it ? ” 

This conversation and others of the same kind led me to examine 
more the commercial position of the city. 

The great currents of commerce on which Hamburg reached such 
prosperity have left it, and it is hardly probable that the days can 
come again when its fleets shall struggle equally, as once, even with 
those of Denmark. Within the last few years, however, its business 
and commerce have been steadily advancing; and especially since the 



90 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


raising of tho Danish Armistice, (August, 1849), there has been a 
remarkable activity developed in the city. The number of vessels 
arriving at the port in 1849, is given at 3,459 ; of those sailing, 3,416. 
In 1850, the ships owned in the city are reckoned at 277, and the 
steam-ships, 9, with a tonnage of 82,053. The population of the 
city and its territory is 188,054. Naturally, with such capabilities 
of a great commercial growth, the inhabitants desire a free con¬ 
nection with the rest of Germany. Hamburg was one of the Ger¬ 
man States which urged vigorously a union of Germany in the 
Assembly, at Frankfort, in 1848, and which refused to recognise the 
old Diet established by Austria, in 1850. It sent, likewise, deputies 
to the Parliament assembled in 1850, by Prussia, at Erfurt, in her 
attempt to get up another “ Union.” Still, I gathered everywhere, 
the hope was that the United Germany would be a Free-Trade Ger¬ 
many, as the citizens are entirely convinced that the Austrian Pro¬ 
tective system would ruin them. 

There is great anxiety even yet with them, lest this late German 
Confederation, established by Austria, should force upon them a 
scale of protective duties. The contingent which Hamburg is 
obliged to furnish the German Confederation, when demanded, is 
3,560 soldiers, and 7 cannons; and in money 4,083 Thaler , (about 
$3,000.) 


October 28 , 1850 . 

THE ROUGH HOUSE. 

^ went out this morning to visit one of the Hamburg Institutions, 
which has interested me more than anything else in the city. And 




A VAGRANT HOME 


9 J 


I know of no similar institution, in any land, commenced on this 
plan, or carried on with such wonderful practical skill, and such wide- 
reaching benevolence. I see, however, that the French government 
have imitated it, in a grand school of the kind, established in Met 
trai. I speak of the Hamburgh Rauhe Haus, (Rough House), a 
large Vagrant School, established by Mr. Wichern, in 1833. 

An omnibus ride of three miles carried me to its neighborhood, 
and after a walk through a pleasant wooded lane, I reached the 
place. The wholeTooked as little like the usual home for vagrants, 
as is possible. I saw no squads of boys walking demurely about, 
but looking as though the very devil was in them, if they could only 
let it out. There were no heavy-looking overseers, discoursing 
piously of the number whom Providence had committed to their 
charge—and thinking of their pockets. And there was not even 
the invariable home for forsaken children—the huge stone building, 
with one bare sunny court-yard. The idea seems to have been here, 
that to those who have no home of their own, as much as possible 
should be given of the home which God has prepared for all. 

It was a large, open garden, full of trees and walks and flowers 
and beds for vegetables, while on each side stretched away green 
corn-fields. Among the trees there were some dozen plain, com¬ 
fortable little wood-houses, like old-fashioned farm-houses, scattered 
about, and one quiet, shaded chapel. The boys visible outside, were 
busy cleaning the flower-beds, or working in the harvest field ; some 
also, repairing fences and buildings. 

I walked up to the largest of the houses, and was directed pleas¬ 
antly by a lad to Mr. Wichern’s rooms. A little interlude occurred 
here very characteristic of our times. 

Among the visitors who arrived just before me was dear old 


62 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


Elihu Burritt, fresh from the Peace Congress, and on his way tc 
Denmark, with two associates, to attempt to mediate between the 
Duchies and the King. 

r 

While we were all waiting in Mr. W.’s room, a conversation com¬ 
menced between Wichern and Burritt on the subject of these peace 
efforts, which soon grew into a warm discussion. The one did not 
understand much German nor the other much English, yet there 
was such a natural eloquence in the two men, that, with the aid of 
a few interpretations thrown in by myself, they argued as well as if 
in the same language. I never saw a better contrast—the fine, 
mild, winning, thoughtful face of the American, as he spoke of the 
all-subduing power of Love, of the virtue that existeth in patience and 
forbearance and meekness, to hurl back the greatest violence; or pic¬ 
tured the time when havoc and war and hate should no more rage 
among men. And on the other side, the strong, marked, stern 
features of the German, denouncing in deep tones the oppression 
which was cursing Germany, and now soon to prostrate Holstein, 
and demanding how the injustice of the strong is to be met, but by 
the strong blow. 

The name “ Rough House ” for this place originated, as Mr. W. 
informs me, seventeen years ago, when he took a little broken-down 
farm-house here to try if he could not start, on a new plan, a school 
for vagrant children. It were better called now—as some English 
traveller has already named it—the “ Home among the Flowers.” 
The great peculiarity of the plan is the dividing the children into 
families. In each of the little houses I visited is a family group of 
some twelve children, managed by a young man (an “ overseer ”) 
with two assistants. The overseers are theological students, who 
have some way imbibed the idea that two or three years’ practical 
labor among the helpless and forsaken is quite as good a prepara- 



GROUPING” 


93 


tion, for their duties, as preaching to admiring audiences or laying 
up a complete system of antiquated dogmas. The “ assistants ” are 
young men—farmers or mechanics of a religious turn, who intend 
to spend their lives in this kind of work. They are employed at 
first on the most common out-door labor; then are placed in the 
different workships to learn, and afterwards to direct; next are ad¬ 
mitted to a care of the boys within the houses, and are taught by 
the overseers the various needed branches of education, and finally 
take a share with the Principal, in the general supervision of the 
Institution. After a four or six years’ course here, they are sent 
abroad to preside or assist in similar institutions through Germany. 
They are mostly supported by voluntary contributions, or by their 
own labor. There are twenty-three here now. Mr. W. says that 
there is a great demand for them ; and that they have been sent 
for even from Russia, for orphan asylums, houses of correction, rag¬ 
ged schools and the like ; and that some are now preaching among 
the emigrants in America. 

The matter of principal interest, of course, was the situation of the 
children. The first house we entered was a little wooden building 
among the flowers and the apple-trees. It was of only one story, 
with the exception of an attic chamber for the assistants. The first 
room was a long, clean one, where ten or twelve boys were sitting 
round a table, working at their slates, under the inspection of the 
students. Their time is divided off into so many hours for out-door 
work, so many for play and for study. This was the school-time. 
The lads were all clean, comfortable and cheerfully busy. When a 
wretched little vagrant from the gutter is sent in here, he is not at 
once thrown into a mass of boys, to work himself out to ruin or to 
goodness as he best can ; to be kicked and cuffed ; to grab what he 
can get, and to either teach others or learn from others, all the vile 



94 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


things which boys are certain to know. The little stranger is put 
with a few other new comers, into a separate house (“ the novitiate 
house ”) where two or three young men have constant charge of 
him. He eats at their own table with his few comrades, and has 
enough. The overseers study his disposition, and set him either 
at a trade or at garden and farm-work, as he seems best fitted. He 
has bis play, and playmates, and free fresh air, and friends to care 
for him, who hold it a labor of love, to do for the fatherless one, in 
a feeble manner, as Christ did for them. 

He must work hard, but there is variety, and it is healthy work. 
After a time, he is introduced into one of the regular families, and 
there, in simple quarters, under kind care, he spends the five or six 
years. Ho wonder that it comes to be such a home to them all— 
and that the apprentices, whom the Rauhe Haus has sent out so 
plentifully through Germany, are so glad to come back, and work in 
the shops on the place. 

Besides the room I have mentioned, there were in this house a 
sleeping room, a room for the sick, a little kitchen, and two bed¬ 
rooms for the students—all plain, but very neat. 

After this, we went round to the various workshops—for shoe¬ 
making, tailoring, joinery, pattern-making, spinning, baking, etc.— 
in all these the boys working very handily. In addition, there were 
other buildings, where the boys, in company with workmen, were 
busy at book-binding, printing, stereotyping, and wood and stone 
engraving. A few were employed out of doors at the regular farm 
work. There was one good-sized building, where washing, ironing, 
and washing of dishes, and sewing work were done by the girls, for 
there must be some thirty or forty girls here. There is the same 
general arrangement for them as for the boys. They are usually 
taught all branches of housekeeping, and are expected to enter 



ITS SUCCESS. 


9fl 


service. The boys are generally apprenticed to masters. And it 
is said, from the number of affiliated schools started by the students 
of this through Germany, and from its many friends, that nc 
apprentices on their journeys, find a better reception than these 
from the Rauhe Haus. We found the chapel a quiet, tasteful 
building, just decorated by the boys for some festival which they 
wished to celebrate. 

Perhaps the most remarkable feature about the whole institution, 
was the practical power displayed in it. It is so rare for a 
man, with the moral enthusiasm which would raise up the helpless 
and outcast from their degradation, to have, at the same time, the 
business talent for. such a scheme as this. Herr Wichern has 
shown that he unites both. His first step, after establishing a few 
of the “ family groups” and common workshops, was to set up 
printing presses, where the boys could strike off, under the direction 
of a master workman, the tracts and little books needed in the 
school, and the Reports of the Rauhe Haus. They succeeded so 
well at this, that the works were enlarged, and now do a consider¬ 
able external business, and go far towards supporting the other 
parts of the establishment. Many of the boys are apprenticed here, 
instead of being placed with masters. 

In addition, a commercial agency ( Agentur ) has been formed to 
sell the various articles made by the boys. This is separate from 
the school, upon which its losses will not fall. The profits are to be 
devoted to meeting the general expenses for the children. Con¬ 
nected with it are the lithograph and stereotype shops, the wood¬ 
engraving and the book-binding. All these last have proved very 
successful, and the business done by the agency is quite extensive. 
It is expected that with the printing and the agency, the institution, 
expensive as it is, will in a few years support itself. Of course, all 



06 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


this complicated mass of detail needs a clear head to manage it— 
and for this management, Mr. Wichern appears to he the man. 
This, however, is only a small part of his labors. He is a power¬ 
ful speaker, and has a great faculty of influencing any man with 
whom he is thrown in contact. He has pleaded the cause of his 
Vagrant Home well through Germany ; and has gained liberal aid 
even from the princes. Of his labors for a wider object, I have 
already previously spoken. That I did not exaggerate, when I said 
this institution has not its counterpart in other countries must be 
apparent. 

A “ Home among the Flowers,” where the vagrant—the child 
nourished amid filth and squalor—in the dark cellars of a great 
city, should at length see something of God’s beautiful world; 
where among friends, in the midst of orchards and corn-fields, he 
could grow up, invigorated by healthful labor, to manhood—all 
this would seem alone more like the dream cf a philanthropic 
French novelist, than the reality. But still farther, that this institu¬ 
tion should have a system, almost Fourier-like, of “ groups” and 
families, and yet be imbued with the simplest, truest spirit of the 
Christian religion ; that it should send out not only skilled appren¬ 
tices, saved from the prison and the alms-house, but educated young 
men to teach others, and to spread abroad the self-denying, Chris¬ 
tian principles of the place—and most of all, that it should have 
existed seventeen years, and by its well-conducted industry, have 
almost supported itself, may fairly constitute it one of the wonders 
in benevolent effort. The friend of man, searching anxiously foi 
what man has done for his suffering fellows, may look far in both 
continents before he finds an institution so benevolent, so practical^ 
and so truly Christian, as the Hamburg Rough House. 



CHAPTER X. 


A BREAKFAST-TALK. 

L-■], Duchy of Meklenburg Schwerin, Nov., 1850. 

A little German country inn again! The tall white stove in one 
corner of the room; a well-stuffed, most uncomfortable German 
bed in another, and the floor, scrubbed and polished to the highest 
possible brightness which soap and water will give. I am seated at 
the table with the well-worn portfolio which has acccooanied me in 
so many a tramp through Europe, and the little pocket inkstand, 
apparently contrived by the manufacturer with special reference to 
being knocked over. Thanks to the fates, this neat table-cloth, at 
least, remains unstained as yet! I have bid good bye to Ham¬ 
burg, though it hardly seems yet, as if I had really parted from 
friends so warm and true; friends soon made, but not soon to be 
forgotten. You who wish really to know what a home is, must 
enter Germany as I did, a stranger; and then with the slightest 
introduction, be received as I was, at once into the midst of a kind- 
hearted family. You must see the mutual forbearance of all—the 
open, unconscious affection—the simple and cordial ways—the free 
respect for the old father, and the care for the amusements and 
plays of the children. You must see the generous, though plain hos¬ 
pitality—the unaffected friendliness towards all who enter—the sunny 
5 


98 


SOCIAL Lit E IN GERMANY. 


and confiding*life through the whole family—and you must be as 1 
was, a traveller, long away from all family influences, and tired 
with the incessant round of sights and the superficial life in picture 
galleries and museums, if you would understand how pleasant and 
satisfactory was this my reception into German Home-Life. 

It seems to me that there is an element running through family- 
life here, of which we know little in America; but I reserve any 
veiy definite conclusions, until I see more of the Germans in the 
interior. I shall spend a day or two in this village, and then pro¬ 
ceed at once to the central point of North-Germany—the old Prus¬ 
sian capital—Berlin. u Ich bitte Sie. I beg your pardon, sir; a 
gentleman for you! sir!” came forth in the midst of my medita¬ 
tions from an old servant, who had entered almost without my 
perceiving it. 

I found my visitor was one of the acquaintances to whom I had 
presented letter* of introduction the day before. “ You must come 
right up, and take breakfast with us, and give the day to us!” said 
he. I met the invitation as freely as it was given, and only excused 
myself from taking up quarters in his house, by alleging the many 
letters I must write, and my wishing to be alone. In a few minutes 
I was seated in a snug little library, in a great arm-chair, with a 
coffee-cup in my hand. On another side, is the father, in a similar 
chair, his coffee on a book-stand beside him, and a long pipe in his 
mouth. The mother, a dignified lady, with one of the sweetest 
expressions of face I ever saw, sits at a little table in the midst of 
the room, making the coffee, or passing us a bread cake, and seem¬ 
ing as if she were trying to make the stranger forget he were 
among any other than his oldest friends, in which she succeeds 
very well. 

The only other member of our coffee-party, is the gentleman who 



A “LIBERAL.” 


9D 


bad come with me, a young lawyer from Schwerin, the capital of 
this little Duchy, the son of my friends. His breakfast, he 
says, is merely a cigar, a not uncommon custom here, as I observe. 
Here we are then, most pleasantly arranged for a morning chat! 
The conversation turns at first, on my own travels, my observations, 
and the contrasts I notice here to America. Then, as everywhere 
now in Germany, to the subject of most absorbing interest—poli¬ 
tics. I asked the young lawyer, what the state of feeling towards 
the government was in this Duchy. 

“ Discontent, utter discontent! and we have reason.” 

I inquired for the particulars whether they were worse off than 
other German governments. 

“ Perhaps not,” said he, “ but look at our situation. Here we 
are, a little Principality,* with not more than 530,000 inhabitants, 
supporting a prince and expensive court. We are Germans and 
want to belong to Germany, and not be merely the providers for 
this duke. Our debt now is over ten millions of thalers, and the 
taxes come to some three millions and a half! How could we be 
contented ?” 

I saw I had stumbled upon a Liberal , and followed up the con¬ 
versation eagerly. 

“ But the people have a constitutional government in the Duchy, 
have they not ?” said I. 

“ Yes, the two Principalities of Mecklenburg, are under a com¬ 
mon parliament, and a very old one, still the people do not take 
much part in the government. Our nobles and office-holders control 
everything.” 

I inquired about the aristocracy and whether the feudal relations 
still existed in Meklenburg. 

* Ths Principality of Meklenburg- Schwerin- 



100 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


“ No,” said he, “ there are no serfs now, either in Prussia or in 
these Duchies; but we have an old nobility which weighs upon us. 
Our party, the Liberal, have just passed through a long struggle 
with the aristocracy. The noblemen have before always had eve¬ 
rything under their thumbs, and have governed the Principality, 
when the parliament was not in session, by a most unconstitutional 
assembly of their own. We attacked them, and carried our point, 
and that accursed old “ Committee” was abolished. But now they 
are getting the upper hand. They have appealed to the “ Austrian 
Union” at Frankfort, and we shall have all the troops of the Bund , 
(Union) upon us, if we do not give in!” 

“ This comes from our divided Germany,” said another gentle¬ 
man, who had just entered. “ If we had a real union—a German 
Fatherland, the people could protect themselves! But now, look 
at us! No German cares foi\ Germany !” 

“ But do you think, dear Adolph,” said the mother to the liberal 
young lawyer, “ that we should be any the better for another revo¬ 
lution and bloody war ?” 

“ Why not, mother ? What could be worse than this ? Look 
at poor Holstein! and Hesse ! that old forger ( Hassenpflug ) will 
trample her down yet, and we shall have Austrian soldiers over every 
thing.” 

“ Yes, my son, it looks dark, but God will not leave poor Ger¬ 
many, we know. And I do not believe He works through these 
violent outbreaks. Let us trust in Him, for we have tried the 
sword, and we must believe that the good time is not yet. Per¬ 
haps the people are yet in their sins too much, to be free; we must 
still-” 

She was interrupted by a burst of feeling from the young man, 
“What, mother, wait! Mein Oott! Wait still longer! God 



DISCUSSION. 


101 


made us to be free men. He never could have meant us to 
be a nation of slaves l I would rather have a war, than this grind¬ 
ing of tyranny day after day. Give us a revolution—anything ! 
We had a glorious Germany once, and, by God’s will, we can have 
it again!” 

“ Mein liebes kind, my son!” said she, and though I sympathised 
with the passionate son, I felt almost awed by the expression of 
earnestness, so loving, yet so deep, which settled on her face. “ I 
started in life when the French movement for liberty was in full 
sweep. I threw myself into it, as all the young did around me, with 
all my heart. I would have died so gladly, then, to make my 
countrymen free. 

“ But this all fell to the ground, and nothing but infidelity was the 
fruit in France. I was all aroused too by the movements after the 
Conferences in ’15, and I thought w§ were going to have a resur¬ 
rection of Germany. But here bad passions, and wstnt of trust in 
God, came in, and everything was worse than before. And then, 
when 1848 came, I had lost hope. I see that we must all be 
purified, and there must be more faith in God, and more true reli¬ 
gion, before our German people are ready for Freedom. 

“ God knows, dear Adolphe, that I long and pray for happiness to 
poor Germany, but He must first prepare us! Perhaps we can 
never have a free government!” 

“ But it is not thoroughly tried, Mother! The kings promised 
and cheated us in 1812 and ’15; and we were cheated again in’48. 
We trusted them too much. Look at that—King of Prussia! ” 

“ Careful! Adolphe, be careful,” said the father, looking anxiously 
round. 

“ I do not care, father; you know he was completely in the 
hands of the mob, and he swore to a Constitution and everything— 



102 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


and now / That would not happen twice. The Germans are good- 

natured, but they know the princes now and woe to-” 

“ Let us not speak evil, my son, of those in authority. The King 
of Prussia is doing much for his people and the Church. It is not 
Liberty; dear Adolphe, which the mob wants; it is license and social¬ 
istic community of property, and the overthrow of the Church. 
See how it all succeeds now in France ! Did we ever have a worse 
Despotism, than in your Republic there? ” 

“ Still, mother,” answered the young man, “ there can be Revo¬ 
lutions which work well. The American Revolution, this gentleman 
will tell you, was not an infidel movement. They fought for free¬ 
dom and built up a religious State. May not we too here?” 

I ventured to put in a word here, and said something of our free 
institutions, and described the deep hold which religion has of the 
heart of the nation; and then asked, whether they ought to test 
these struggles by their success in France. The French character 
was certainly different from the German ; and had been trained in 
another school. 

The mother admitted our success in America, but they thought 
we had fresh materials and more room; and, especially, a basis in 
the old English Puritan religious character. “ You have escaped 
much in the New World. Time only will show what will be the 
result from all these fearful wars and troubles in the Old. Where 
the Spirit of God is, there is Liberty.” 

I was intensely interested in this conversation at the time, though 
it is only a sample of what one hears everywhere in Germany. 
The pure-minded, the religious, the old on one side, who have seen 
too often the passionate hopes with which these struggles have be¬ 
gun, and the sad disappointments and lame conclusions; who recog¬ 
nise in the blind struggles for Liberty and these excesses and conse- 




103 


A GERMAN SUNDAY. 

quent defeats, the finger of God pointing out that the nations are 
unfitted for freedom. And the young, hopeful, enthusiastic on the 
other, who believe that there is a future of Liberty and Love for 
Humanity, and that they can do something to help it on; who see 
in every defeat, only another impulse to exertion ; and who cannot 
think that tyranny is anything but an exception—an excrescence 
in God’s world, to be cut off by the strong hand, and through many 
toils, if necessary. 

One of the days which I spent here was a Sunday, and I was 
desirous to see how it would be observed. My friends had the 
charge of a boarding-school for young ladies. In the morning, the 
pupils met in a Bible-class, as they would in a similar establishment 
at home. There was more cheerfulness than is usual on this day 
with us; and, indeed, there was on all days more of an uncon¬ 
strained, home-like aspect than T ever saw in an American boarding- 
school. About eleven o’clock, we all went out to the Lutheran 
Church. Here, however, there was nothing to remind of America. 
A gray, mediseavl church, very high and spacious, with a few seats 
placed in the centre of the transept; cold too and damp, with the 
voice of the clergyman barely audible under the lofty arches. The 
old, monkish preaching-desk—the images and paintings and stained 
windows—the chaunting by the clergyman, and the wax candles 
burning at the altar, almost made me think I was again in a Catho¬ 
lic cathedral. A great part of the audience were obliged to stand. 
The sermon was one of the usual sentimental, milk-and-water ex¬ 
hortations, of which the German clergy are so fond ; and the hearers 
seemed especially sleepy, except during the music, which was very 
good, so that on the whole I did not get a very favorable impres- 


104 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


sion of the religious privileges in this part of the Duchy of Mecklen¬ 
burg. 

We met at dinner. As in all Christian countries, our Sabbath 
dinner was excellent; opening with red wine-soup, and terminating 
in the great delicacy of this Principality, a Meklenburg roast-goose. 
The conversation was very pleasant and cheerful, but mostly on 
religious or moral subjects. After it was over, the ladies went out 
to the Sunday-schools, and the gentlemen gathered in the drawing¬ 
room to their coffee. The talking, much more naturally too, than 
in most of our religious families, was serious in its tone. 

There was another service in the afternoon in the same Lutheran 
church. At the close, all who felt inclined, started on a walk 
through the fine large park belonging to the Duke, and surrounding 
his palace—one of the finest palaces, by the way, in Europe, in the 
exterior. 

A German never understands our mode of observing the Sab¬ 
bath. It seems to him an utter change from the old idea of the 
day—a day set apart as a religious festival. He holds that to be 
gloomy, unsocial or averse to enjoying Nature on that day, is not 
only contrary to the old Jewish custom, which he does not consider 
binding, but opposed to the Christian event commemorated in it; 
an event beyond all others joyous to the believer. There is nothing 
with Germans who have visited England, which they look back 
upon with such such utter gloom and aversion, as the aspects they 
gained of the “ English Sabbath,” as they call it. One half of a 
city, with sour faces, shutting itself up in churches and houses on 
that day, and the other half, sunk in the lowest brutality. 

Their object, as they will often tell you, is to make the day one 
of worship and practical benevolence, and at the same time, of reli¬ 
gious sociality. They take long walks in the afternoon and evening, 



THE CONTRAST. 


105 


urging that it is unnatural to confine oneself to the house so closely 
a whole day ; and that to a religious mind, nothing is so conducive 
to good thoughts, as a free movement among the beautiful things 
God has made. 

This can be abused, they allow ; but so can every privilege; and 
it may be doubted, say they, whether for the young any abuse is 
worse than the stupid, impatient hours they must have, if shut 
in the house through the long pleasant day. It is a time beyond 
all others, which they wish connected in their children’s minds with 
pleasant, natural associations. These are the views of the religious 
community. The mass of Germans do not at all recognize the day 
as in any sense religious. Concerts, theatres, nine-pins, beer-drink¬ 
ing, and universal amusement and excess fill up the hours. A few 
of the women attend church service in the morning; the men 
seldom. 

I have stood in German villages on the Sabbath, and as the 
memory of our ISTew England homes came over me, I have felt 
almost sick at heart at the contrast. Here the workingmen 
sunken, degraded, with dull, sodden faces; dignified by little con¬ 
sciousness of an Immortality, and elevated by no share in an intelli¬ 
gent worship; almost without hope or aspiration, and spending the 
hours of a day, which God and man had given him for the eleva¬ 
tion of his whole nature, in swilling beer, in dull games, and heavy 
sleep. 

There, the man, intelligent; aroused ; solemn—it may be gloomy 
sometimes—in memory of his Duty and his Destiny; his mind 
intensely active over the thoughts presented, and filled with infinite 
hopes; the day too formal often, but beautified with a few pure, 
calm hours, whose influence goes with him long in the whirl and 



106 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


excitement afterwards. “ Thank God,” I have said to myself, “ the 
laborer with us has not forgotten that he is a man!” 

I would never for a moment advocate any strict legal mode of 
observing the Sabbath; or any mode giving the impression that 
we are more bound to be religious on one day than on another. 

The very idea of the day is, that it should be a time for free spirit¬ 
ual exercise; a change from usual pursuits, and a means necessary 
in the arrangements of society, for building up our piety. There 
may be hypocrisy, and formality, and a needless seriousness of 
manner on that day with us; still it will be long before any rational 
well-wisher to humanity would desire to see our New England 
Sabbath exchanged for the German Holiday. 



CHAPTEK XI. 

WAR ! 


Berlin, Nov. 12,1860. 

Berlin has been like a camp this past week; drilling and arming 
the recruits going on all the while; and the streets echoing, almost 
every hour of the day, to the tramp of companies, marching through 
the city to the railroad. All business is interrupted, for the workmen 
in almost every branch of employment are obliged to hurry off at 
once to their regiments. There is the greatest enthusiasm among 
all. Press and pulpit, the democrat and the royalist, alike sustain 
the war, and exhort all parties on, to uphold the honor of Prussia 
and the cause of constitutional liberty. 

A war against Austria and her allies for poor Hesse-Cassel! 

I have often laughed over the struggles of the Germans for 
the mysterious “ Unity,” and the incessant efforts for freedom, always 
ending in pamphlets and speech-making. But I shall not be 
inclined do so again. During the last two weeks, I have seen 
something of the deep German feeling on these matters. In our 
quiet, comfortable condition at home, where we vote at town-meet¬ 
ings, and choose a President, and come to look upon “ liberty” much 
as we do on our breakfasts—as a very pleasant thing, but quite a 
matter of course—it is somewhat difficult to appreciate the intense 


103 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


feeling about it in foreign countries, and still more difficult, the feel¬ 
ing which exists in Prussia at the present time, as connected with 
German Unity and this war with Austria. But, if any one will 
imagine a despotic Power, pouring its masses of troops over our 
own land, not alone about to destroy our position among nations as 
an independent and self-protecting people, but with the Union to 
blot out the last hope of liberty in our part of the world, he will 
have some idea of the feeling of the Prussians, as they look at this 
mighty combination against them. 

The patriot, who has been longing and laboring for liberty in 
Germany, sees in this attack of Austria, the breaking up of the 
Union, in which rested the great hope of constitutional changes ; 
sees the advancement of the old “ Bundestag ” (Diet) with its 
hatred of free institutions, and its crushing of constitutional resis¬ 
tance ; and Russia and Austria, the old arbitrary powers, fastening, 
hand in hand, their influence on Germany. All hope of carrying 
out the constitution in Hesse is gone; and Prussia, the representa¬ 
tive in Germany of freer institutions, must take, henceforth, the 
position of a second-rate power. 

The soldier—and in this feeling the majority of the people sym¬ 
pathize—sees the firm old state which he has loved so much, built, 
up by the Great Frederick against overwhelming odds, sustained 
through many a reverse and powerful attack by a military organiza¬ 
tion hardly less stringent than the Lacedemonian, and by a military 
pride as high as was ever that of the Romans—he must see all 
this, at last, disgraced. The ignorant Austrian, and the beer¬ 
drinking, heavy Bavarian, are to give the law to his country. 

Can we wonder at the excitement with which the news of the 
war was received throughout the land ? Never, we believe, was 
the drafting for an army more cheerfully borne with. The law for 



RECRUITING. 


*09 


mobilizing ” the army—that is for putting it on a war footing— 
required 200,000 men in twenty-four hours’ time; yet in many 
districts, it is said, many more volunteers presented themselves than 
the regular number demanded. 

Throughout the week previous there had been every appearance 
that the Ministry in the conference at Warsaw, intended to yield to 
the demands of Austria. The original order for mobilizing the 
army was countermanded. The official journal was peaceful in its 
tone, and the King was known to be for concessions. It cannot be 
imagined how deep the indignation and regret was at this, through¬ 
out the land. From every quarter, from conservative and constitu¬ 
tional journals, from soldiers and citizens, came the most heart¬ 
stirring appeals against this “ disgrace” of Prussia—this bowing 
down to the arbitrary powers of Germany. And when, at last, the 
order came to fill up the army—that is, to prepare for war—there 
was a burst of joy throughout the kingdom. Thanks poured into 
the cabinet from every part. Not a newspaper which did not utter 
its congratulations over the step at last taken. And yet it was a 
joy tempered with serious forebodings in the minds of many. 
Prussia was entering upon a war, whose result no man could tell; 
a contest which might be as long and disastrous to German develop¬ 
ment as was the Thirty Years’ War. It was against fearful odds 
also. There was Austria with an army of 120,000 men, many of 
them veterans in the campaigns of Italy and Hungary, right upon 
the borders of Hesse. There was Bavaria, with a body of 80,000 
eager to pour themselves over Prussia. The other German states— 
unless perhaps Hanover—were either neutral or united with 
Austria. The colossal Power on the eastern frontier was an ally of 
Austria, and might at any moment take the opportunity to gain a 
foothold in Germany, by sending an immense army over Silesia. 



110 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


England was averse, and France was reported even to have designs 
on the Prussian provinces on the Rhine. 

Besides, it was felt Prussia was a country in the last degree 
unfitted to be defended. Open on every side, disjointed, with the 
enemy’s forces between the two extremities, it could hope for nothing 
but in bold attacks. 

Such was the feeling in Berlin, these last two weeks. Two more 
exciting weeks I have not passed in foreign lands. So many events 
in such quick succession. First the conferences in Warsaw, the 
countermanding the order for mobilizing the army, the resignation 
of Radowitz, the momentary withdrawing of the ministry ; then 
war, with all its exciting preparations ; and in the midst of all this 
turmoil, the quiet death of the brave old man* who was one of the 
chief actors, worried to his grave, some said, by these troubles in his 
country’s affairs. 

Such, as I have said, is the Prussian view of this war; but it is 
a view which I cannot at all take. I have talked about this contest 
often with my friends, and I feel deeply the hopes and desires which 
they connect with it, but I am compelled to believe they are de¬ 
ceived in the intentions with which it is carried on. 

It is true, the old Bundestag is the enemy of constitutional 
changes; it is true, that in the Cassel affair, Prussia is on the side of 
the people against the arbitrary Curfiirst, and that, as a nation, she 
is the representative of the constitutional party. Still I have no 
confidence whatever in the Government. They have crushed liberty 
in Baden; they have put down democratic efforts in Hamburg; 
they have cajoled the people into a constitution which is no constitu¬ 
tion, and I do not see why they may not act consistently to their 
old character in Cassel, when the war is over. 

* Count Brandenburgh, Prime Minister after the resignation of Radowitz. 



THE KING 


111 


At the head of this government is a most remarkable character— 
the present King of Prussia—on whom much of the results of the 
war will depend. Probably on no throne of Europe has there been 
for many years, so gifted a personage. In all the accomplishments 
which make the cultivated gentleman, in delicate taste for art, in a 
refined ear for music, in general scholarship, and in elegant address, 
he has no superior. Unlike the matter-of-fact character of most 
kings of the present day, he has a highly imaginative nature—given 
to Phantasie , as the Germans say—and quick often to move to 
noble impulses. But, as both friends and enemies confess, there is 
no dependence to be placed on his phantasies—and the enthusiasm 
of one day may altogether die away on the next. Still in all his po¬ 
litical changes he has been true to one “ ideal,” an ideal formed long 
ago, and growing more real to him, till he forgets entirely the age in 
which he lives. 

He believes in a State where no written constitution shall exist— 
where the king rules with a patriarchal authority, directly derived 
from God, and where different classes (Mdchte ) form the elements 
of government, restraining one another. This idea appears through¬ 
out his reign; under it, he has promised constitutional changes 
which he has never granted, deceived the people with constitutions 
where the true elements of liberty were gone, and has acted, whether 
fickle or false, again and again, with most disastrous influence 
on the liberties of Prussia. This idea comes forth again this very 
year, when he gives the Constitution of February; promising to 
observe this instrument, but with this condition always, that “ the 
King reigns for “ he reigns by God's ordinance'' 

From such a man I do not believe Constitutional Freedom lias 
anything to expect; and I cannot hope for favorable results from a 
war of which he has the guidance. 


112 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


In my opinion, the government and the people have a different 
object, and the result will show either that the Cabinet will evade a 
war, which may strengthen the constitutional party, or that, when 
they have gained the victory in Cassel, they are no more desirous of 
granting constitutional privileges there than they have been in Hei¬ 
delberg, or are now in Berlin. 

Amid all this clangor of arms, and tumult, and passion of oppos¬ 
ing nations, there is a plain, quiet, good-hearted man in one of the 
great cities of Germany, devoting his whole time and no small 
talents, in sending forth, through the German papers, messages of 
Peace . He has separated himself from his country, and even from 
those who sympathise with him, to do this. It is a work of labor, 
and of expense—for every article has to be paid for as if it were an 
advertisement. There is no honor in it; for the sneer, or the good- 
natured joke, is all that he gets in return. Yet through it all, in all 
this whirl and preparation of war around him, he works away; 
sending out, in faith, these little “ Olive Branches ,” as he calls 
them. Need I say, it is dear Elihu Burritt —the sturdy Yankee 
workman of former days—the kind-hearted, industrious friend of 
man , in these ? If his voice be indeed so far beyond the age that 
none can hear it, one may still wish him God’s blessing! 



CHAPTEK XII. 


BERLIN. 

In wandering about Berlin, I felt myself at once in an entirely 
different atmosphere from that in Hamburg. The books in the 
windows, the objects of art, the shops, and even the very external 
of the citizens were all changed. I had left commercial Germany 
for intellectual Germany. There were few r er marks of individual 
wealth—but far more of general taste and culture. 

Berlin, as a whole, is not an agreeable city in appearance. Why 
any one should ever have chosen such a site for the Capital of a 
large kingdom ;—a place in the midst of a wide, sandy plain, with 
no beauty of scenery, unprovided with stone or building materials, 
and on the banks of a miserable little rivulet, is difficult to under¬ 
stand. The main street, (the Friedrichs strasse,) some two miles in 
length, is on one dead level, so that the water in many spots never 
flows off in the drains. The back and side streets are very dirty 
and without sidewalks. All the finest parts of the city are built 
of brick, stuccoed, and in this hot dusty locality, the stucco either 
crumbles off badly, or becomes very much discolored. Even the 
Royal Palace—one of the largest palaces in Europe, looks as soiled 
and begrimed as a Liverpool warehouse. 


114 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


Nothing seems built completely. The Brandenburg Gate—the 
most imposing portal perhaps in the world—is constructed of brick, 
stuccoed in imitation of stone, and the only genuine thing on it, is 
the copper car of victory, crowning it. 

Still refined taste has atoned for the want of scenery, or of build¬ 
ing material. The architectural points of view seemed to me 
without an equal in any city of Europe, except Edinburgh. I shali 
never forget my impressions, when first walking down the broad 
street, “ Unter den Linden ,” (Under the lindens)—a street perhaps 
twice as wide as Broadway, with a noble avenue of lindens in the 
centre. At one end, were the columns of the splendid Branden¬ 
burg Gate, like the portico of a Grecian temple, and at the other, 
as I stood on the bridge, was a view of as many noble buildings in 
various directions, as any modern city will show. The sturdy, com¬ 
pact-looking arsenal, the most original and consistent architectural 
conception in the city; the New Museum with its colonnades and 
brilliant frescoes ; the little temple-like building relieving the fore¬ 
ground—a guard-house; the gloomy and massive palace behind 
the university, and seen through an interval of the houses, a square 
(the Gens d* armes Platz,) lined with imposing buildings and 
churches. 

But there was about it all to me an interest greater even than 
the pleasure from its architecture. None but one who has felt, can 
understand an American traveller’s first fresh feelings, in standing in 
scones of old historic association. To me the whole was speaking of 
the Past. The old iron-hearted, indomitable king, whose campaigns 
I had followed when a boy, as if they were a tale of romance, 
seemed to me still to fill the scenes with his presence. The martial 
air over everything, the statues of general and soldier, the designs 
and sculpture, everywhere picturing war and struggle and victory, 



MEMORIALS. 


115 


the buildings he had erected, and even the squadrons of men who 
marched incessantly by with the precision of working machines, all 
spoke to me of the stern old General and Martinet, who had himself 
by his unconquerable purpose built up a Capital and a Kingdom of 
soldiers. Everywhere, too, voices from Prussia’s short, but glorious 
history. There right by me, the bare head whitened by a squall 
of November snow, as it might have been on many a battle field, 
the foot treading proudly over a dismounted cannon, and the sword 
waving triumphantly in the air, is a bronze statue of the fiery 
Bliicher. 

Across the street, in reflective posture, a marble figure of the man 
who beyond all others prepared Prussia, and organized her army 
for the grand struggle with the French in ’14 and ’15—Scharn- 
horst; behind him, as the trophies of the city, the cannon and mor¬ 
tars brought back from Paris, in 1816. And beyond, on the great 
gate, the car of victory recovered from Napoleon after the battle of 
Waterloo. 

In the gathering darkness, as the thick ranks of soldiers hurried 
eagerly on over the bridge, towards the road for Southern Germany, 
or as some more enthusiastic shouted, “ Fur Konig und Vater - 
land! ” (For King and Fatherland!) it almost seemed as if the 
Great Frederick might again appear in his three-cornered hat and 
careless uniform to lead the armies on to victory; or as if there 
were again an uprising of Prussia with her old war-cry, to oppose 
combined Europe. But, alas! a most degenerate descendant sits 
on the throne of the “ soldier-king; ” and the contest, towards which 
they enthusiastically hasten, shall be but another of the valorous 
displays and cowardly retractions, which have marked the reign of 
Frederick William. 



116 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


The city, as I said before, shows everywhere the marks of a high 
culture and taste. 

I have already visited an Institution, founded, I think, by the 
Government, whose sole object is to instruct gratuitously apprentices 
of the various trades in the fine arts, with reference to improvements 
in the patterns of manufactures, and in the designs of common 
utensils. The King has been very earnest in his endeavors to im¬ 
prove the taste of the people, and to beautify the city. The large 
galleries of painting and sculpture, and the fine collections of an¬ 
tique vases, coins and medals, are entirely open to all. He is putting 
up also a colossal bronze equestrian statue of Frederick the Great, 
by Rauch, in the Linden Avenue, and is now erecting besides one 
of the most tasteful and consistent structures which is to be found in 
Europe, designed as a building for the reception of the numerous 
collections of sculpture and works of antiquity, in Berlin. It is con¬ 
structed throughout, as much as possible, in the classic style. The 
floors are, in most instances, of the most minutely tesselated marble, 
of all varieties of color. The walls, and cornices, and roof, are painted 
in the elaborate classic mode; every appropriate space filled with 
minute, exquisite colored figures, or with those strange devices from 
mythology, and history, and life, which one can still see in the houses 
of Pompeii. The columns are of every variety and color of marble, 
carefully chiseled, even to the finest leaf on the capitals. On some 
of the side walls there are bold, free, almost startling frescoes, by 
Kaulbach and Cornelius; and on others, genuine classic alto-relievo 
work, brought from Rome or Athens. The niche for each statue is 
painted appropriately to the character, with beautiful minute figures, 
and the wall-veils beneath the cornices are filled with mythological, 
grotesque combinations from the hands of German artists, as luxu- 



THE MUSEUM. 


117 


riant, or wild, or sensuous in composition, as any which ever adorned 
the temples of Venus or of Bacchus. 

The whole, like the ruined houses of Pompeii, or the remains of 
the palaces and baths of Rome, leaves an impression of the most 
wonderful combination of elaborate and solid work. It was the 
splendor and massiveness of an ancient temple, with the fineness of 
a modern miniature museum. I wandered a long time through 
the splendid halls and lofty porches, and could not but think, as I 
looked at it all, that there were some advantages from this centraliz¬ 
ing of power in the Old World, which we must wait long for in 
the New. 

But, as I go abroad among the people ; as I see soldiers stationed 
at every corner and in every public place; as I find that a man can¬ 
not stir from his city and hardly from his house, without feeling this 
strong grasp of the central power; as I hear the desires of noble 
men expressed for something freer and better for their nation ; and 
as I observe how confused and unsatisfied, and unhappy, the con¬ 
dition of these German monarchies is now, I feel how poor the ex¬ 
change of this, with all its splendor and taste would be, for our free, 
unchecked society. 

Soon after my arrival, an entertainment occurred quite character¬ 
istic of Berlin, and which is considered one of the great literary en¬ 
joyments of the season. It is the acting over of one of the old 
Greek plays, with all the appropriate accompaniments. In this case 
it was the tragedy of Antigone. Tieck, one of the first poets and 
literary men of the age, and Boekh, the great classical scholar from 
the University, were consulted as to the decorations and scenery. 
The choruses were translated by Donner, and the music composed 
for them was by Mendelssohn,—I suppose the greatest of modern 
composers. The more difficult parts of the scenery had been pro- 



118 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


vided by the King himself, from whom, I believe, the whole idea 
originated. 

At an early hour there was gathered in the theatre an immense 
audience of students and professors, and all the principal literary 
people of Berlin. The very first aspect of the scenery and stage, 
was strange. Beside the customary stage behind the curtain, there 
was another lower stage, in front, with entrances on each side for 
the actors. On each side of the curtain were beautiful fresco figures 
of the Comic and the Tragic muse. The curtain fell instead of rising, 
as in modern days; and the actors came in from the front, instead 
of the back—a much more difficult thing, by the way.—The princi¬ 
pal characters alone enter from the opposite side to the audience. 
I believe there was some further arrangement also, which my clas¬ 
sical knowledge hardly carries me through, such as the servants 
and one set of characters entering from the left, and another from 
the right. The scene was the front of a Grecian house—some beau¬ 
tiful columns,—an altar and small statue, with offerings upon it, 
and an opening occasionally into the peristyle beyond. 

On the lower stage, was an altar with offerings of flowers upon it, 
around which were grouped the members of the choroi. These 
were old men, with long white hair, and holding staffs in their hands, 
in tunic and robe and sandals. There were two parties, each with 
different color and responding to one another in the chorus; the 
leaders sustaining the dialogue, where it was required in the play. 
Their “grouping” throughout—and their positions about the altar, 
which they were continually changing, were very striking. In the 
first scene, or “ episode,” Antigone is seen coming out of the house, 
with the graceful costume which the old wall-paintings give us of 
Grecian maidens, and with a classic urn on her head, which had 



119 


A GREEK PLAY. 


quite probably been borne in that very way some two thousand years 
ago. 

It is a very difficult play to act. The conceptions are, very many 
of them, so foreign to modern ideas ; the allusions to old historical 
events and to Mythology are so very hard to render appropriately— 
and the expressions of Greek passion and pathos, sound so strangely 
in modern version, that it is not to be wondered at, if the acting 
had failed. Still, with all this, and with the fact that one accus¬ 
tomed to read dramas, is always disappointed, when they are acted, 
I found myself carried away by the whole representation. There is 
an idea, running through the whole play, of dark, inexorable Fate 
hanging over the unfortunate House, and urging them to mad crimes. 
And yet one can see, as perhaps the poet meant to show of all 
Fate, that after all, it is their own voluntary madness. These ideas 
were left almost painfully on my mind. Then the nobleness and 
rashness of Antigone as she resolves to defy Creon's and the State’s 
command, and bury the corpse of her brother, Polynices, The in¬ 
flexible will of Creon, as he dooms her to death, and denies the 
prayer of his favorite son—the betrothed of Antigone—for mercy, 
and his terrible grief, as he finds that with her, he has destroyed his 
son and his beloved wife, Eurydice. All this wild, fierce emotion, 
was wonderfully brought out—and in every part, came the glorious 
music of the choroi, as they sang alternately of the blindness of 
men in the hands of inexorable Fate; of the sweep and power of 
human passion ; or of the unspeakable greatness of the All-power¬ 
ful who sits above this—a passage worthy of Job. I have never 
heard music that was more thrilling, and there was in it all, a wild, 
strange tone, as consistent to that mysterious Fate hanging over this 
House. That tender passage too, where Antigone half excuses her 



120 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


own heroic devotion to her brother, which had impelled her to defy 
law, and almost to forget her love to her betrothed, 

“ Not for Hate, but Love, was I, by nature formed,” 

was given with touching truthfulness. The death of Eurydice was 
beautifully shown, by throwing open the inner portals of the house, 
where were seen the funeral maidens gathered around a white form, 
with burning torches and flowers. 

There was no division of the play into acts —only episodes. The 
whole throughout, in costume, decorations, scenery—even manners, 
in the most wonderful consistency to what we know of the Grecian 
modes ; though probably the thing most inconsistent, was the music; 
which I suppose would have been far inferior in the original. Alto¬ 
gether, it was a very high intellectual enjoyment, and impressed old 
Grecian Drama on the mind, more than many a college lecture. 



CHAPTER XIII. 


LIFE IN BERLIN. 

Nov. 1850. 

I have taken lodgings in a very pleasant street—the Dorotheen 
Strasse —near the Linden Avenue, and where several of tho 
Americans and Germans, to whom I have letters, reside. My room 
is on the second story, with a pleasant exposure, and on the whole 
neatly furnished, though it has required a long-sustained argument 
to get rid of that enormous feather-bed coverlid. I pay four Thaler 
(about $2 80) the month , which is cheap enough; and the break¬ 
fast of coffee and rolls costs eight cents, and dinner at the cafes, 
from twelve and a half to thirty-seven cents, very neat and with 
several courses; so that living in Berlin does not seem likely to bo 
specially expensive. My landlady must have been a beauty in her 
day, though she is very slatternly now. I scarcely ever saw more 
finely chiselled features. She comes in in the morning with my 
coffee, and wishes me Guten Morgen ! in such a merry tone, and 
always gets my name wrong, sometimes making it Herr Brie, 
sometimes Brae, or Brahcy, or even Brass, and always apologizing 
in a compassionate way, as if the men were to be truly pitied who 
wei’6 forced to have such unchristian names. 

I nearly always induce Ifer to stop and chat, and being of rather 
6 


122 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


a speculative turn, she is very fond of putting “knotty theological 
points to me; which if I cannot solve, I avoid, by taking refuge in 
my bad German—a sufficient excuse to her for any amount of igno¬ 
rance. She is the best-natured creature in the world, and of 
course never has anything done in time ; never keeps any engage¬ 
ments, and lets everything run at loose ends. I have saved her 
conscience a great load by taking all our accounts and keeping them 
myself; paying her some weeks ahead, to keep her out of debt. 
She has a very pretty daughter, who keeps my room neatly, so that 
I am satisfied; though I must say, her utter unpunctuality is very 
provoking; and perhaps it is quite as much so, that I am entirely 
cut off from scolding ! A man must be proficient in a language 
if he would scold well, and I cannot do it. Long words and book 
phrases will not serve, and I do not know Berlin slang, and could 
not conscientiously, even if I knew how, swear in German. Per¬ 
haps my looks and terrible English ejaculations and impatient 
German do as well, as she always at once beats a retreat with a 
half-comic,.half-terrified look when I commence. Her own manners 
and those of the children are very pleasant; they never enter or 
leave the room without a bow and salutation to me. The husband, 
who is a tailor, has far more the bearing of a courtly gentleman, 
than most of our cultivated men, and always raises his hat when 
he meets me in the street. 

I notice a similar peculiarity through all classes. In the restau- 
rante , if a gentleman takes a place at the same table, it is always 
with a bow ; if he reaches over for the paper you have finished, he 
uses some half apologetic expression, “ Ich bitte /” The shopkeeper 
gives the morning salutation as you come in; and says “ Empfehle 
mich !”* as you leave. No one enters -an omnibus or a railway 

* “I recommend myself,” the almost universal formula in Berlin for 



LIFE IN BERLIN. 


123 


carriage without saluting the others. I have seen now many classes 
of the Germans, from the HandwerJcsbursch (apprentice) on his 
travels and the soldier in the camps, to the highest literary people, 
and I find through all, this “ humanity ” as the Latins used to call 
it; this open-hearted, pleasant, human way, as if men were really, 
without any poetry, “ members of the same family.” Men in the 
lower classes do kindnesses for you, and neither claim nor accept 
the “ everlasting shilling,” as in England. In a rail-car or public 
conveyance, people talk of their own private matters as if it was a 
thing of course that other persons would take an interest in them. 

Something of my impressions may be due to visiting —one of the 
most unselfish forms of human life—still there is much, which can¬ 
not be accounted for in that way. The politeness too, seems 
genuine. It does not burden you ; or make you feel that you are 
impolite, or appear as if it were worn for the occasion. It is a part 
of every-day, habitual life. Not a politeness, expressing itself 
in grimaces and bows; or fearing openness and downright words in 
others; but a quick, almost unconscious respect for others as men , 
which speaks constantly in German manners. 

I have asked an English groom the way in the streets of Lon¬ 
don, and been told in answer “ How the h—11 should I know 
An American workman would tell you very clearly—but in a fever 
of impatience at being stopped. A German stands—says to you 
with a half bow, “ Be good enough to take the second street,” etc., 
and touches his hat as he goes, which is, perhaps, a little too much 
of a virtue, and yet is a very pleasant thing. 

I notice that there is one expression of deference, which neither 
the Germans nor the English often use, but which is almost univer- 

parting, where adieu is not used. The old German expression, “ Leben Sie 
wohl,” (Farewell!) is seldom heard, except between intimates. 



124 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


sal with Americans. I mean the word, Sir ! Mein Herr , (Sir), is 
seldom heard in Germany, except from servants or inferiors, and is 
considered slavish between equals. 

In genera], the contrast in manners between our lower classes and 
the European, is very striking. It has often surprised me. The 
cultivated classes, in that respect, are very nearly the same, the 
world over. But why a poor man, or an uneducated man with us, 
should be so much less polished, than one in the same position in 
the old world, I have never been able to explain. 

I used formerly to think it was a natural result of our new so¬ 
ciety, not softened as yet by the appliances and influences of an old 
civilization. But I have seen the manners and courtesy of the most 
complete gentleman in a Hungarian cattle-driver, whose whole 
civilization had not carried him above undressed sheep-skins and 
half-cooked meat. It is the more remarkable, as we are not natu¬ 
rally a grumbling, or whimsical, or domineering race, like the Eng¬ 
lish ; or a strict and pragmatic people, like the mass of the Scotch. 
We seem to have in our character all the elements of high courtesy, 
fearlessness, generosity, kindness—yet few of us are habitually 
courteous. 

The causes begin early—manner, expression of any feeling is 
laughed at in childhood; later in life it is called a humbug; and 
afterwards in the gigantic, absorbing plans and pursuits of our Ame¬ 
rican society, so small a thing as manners, or the promotion of 
others’ happiness in these petty ways is altogether lost sight of and 
neglected. 

As though feeling could grow where its expression is always 
pruned, and as though all our grand outward success were worth 
anything, if there be a basis in home-life of cold, unsocial, disagreea¬ 
ble intercourse. 



POLITENESS. 


125 


The type also of religious character most reverenced, and very 
naturally so among us, has not included courtesy as one of its 
traits. We have forgotten the old patriarch, with his simple 
hospitality and native courtliness; and Paul, who could “ become 
all things to all men,” and have taken to ourselves as a model the 
severe, ascetic, form-hating Puritan. A character whose faults men 
have caught but too easily, but whose grand and massive virtues 
become more rare each day. There is a feeling too among 
our sturdy farmers and Western “boys,” that any courtesy is un¬ 
manly. A feeling, boyish as it is, connected with our old English 
gruffness which we have inherited. If Kossuth has done nothing 
else in this country than show that a tact and politeness, like a 
woman’s, is not inconsistent with the strength of an indomitable 
manhood, he has not been without his use to us. 

There is something higher in Politeness than Christian moralists 
have recognised. In its best forms as a simple, out-going, all-per¬ 
vading spirit, none but the truly religious man can show it. For it 
is the Sacrifice of self in the little habitual matters of life—always 
the best test of our principles—together with a Respect, unaffected 
for man, as our brother under the same grand destiny. In its lower 
and more common development in every-day life, we have very much 
to learn of the Europeans. 


November 26. 

Have just called on a family to whom I had letters, and who have 
already been very friendly to me. They are among the first literary 
people of Berlin, and are well known throughout Prussia. I found 
them living in the third story of one of these great houses. The 
door belcw was opened by a porter at my ring, and then on the 



126 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


third landing, their own door by their servant. They occupy only 
four or five rooms, and keep but one servant. 

The sitting-room is more filled up, with various objects, than is 
usual in Germany. There are some exquisite ornaments, in plaster, 
scattered about, mostly casts from antiques in the classical Museum ; 
a very much more tasteful mode of beautifying a room, for a man 
of limited means, than laying out all his money on one or two pieces 
of expensive and second-rate statuary. Few of us can afford to bu}’- 
really good statuary, or fine paintings. Why cannot our American 
housekeepers learn that good engravings are a better ornament to a 
room, than poor paintings in gilt frames; that flowers set off a win¬ 
dow better than tawdry curtains; and that casts of something truly 
graceful, or objects with a real meaning are worth all your second¬ 
hand marble nymphs, gaudy mirrors, or gilded cornices. They re¬ 
ceived me this evening, as they always do, cordially ; not so much, 
I think, because I was a foreigner—for the Berliners see as much 
foreign society as native—but because I was a friend of their friends. 
I had found previously that they were royalists ; and this evening 
we fell into a spirited discussion on our political creeds, which may 
have some interest to my American readers. 

Men need, they urged in the course of the argument, a central, 
definite object for their reverence and obedience. In a Republic, 
there is no reverence for government; no moral tie to the centre ; it 
is merely the bond of interest. There can be no loyalty to a Presi¬ 
dent ; he is, according to your own definitions, the “ servant of the 
people ; ” and not always chosen because he will be the best servant. 
You tell me that your best Statesmen are seldom Presidents. All 
that is most poetic and noble is excluded from such a form. The 
only Government, resembling God’s, is a Monarchy. 

“ We love our king,” said they; and their voices quivered with 



ROYALISTS. 


127 


emotion, as they spoke of the present chances of his being driven 
into exile. “ Where he goes, we will go ! ” 

I could hardly realise, as they talked, that I was conversing 
with persons of the present age; it seemed as if I were among 
the loyal cavaliers and ladies of chivalric times. Yet these were 
people of the highest cultivation, and accustomed to think on all 
subjects. 

I have an unconquerable tendency to take in my own mind, the 
stand-point of the persons I am with, and on this occasion I was 
deeply impressed with the earnestness aud the poetic tone of their 
views, so that, though I battled stoutly for Republicanism, I was 
a little blinded to the wrong of their opinions. I forgot for the 
time, that it is such theories among the cultivated and noble- 
hearted, which have helped to deliver over the forty millions 
of Germany to the blind caprice and heartless tyranny of twenty or 
thirty as weak and inefficient and unprincipled men, as have ever 
disgraced humanity. 

I said in reply, that none of us in America considered our Govern¬ 
ment any the less “ from God,” or any the less an object of love and 
reverence, than they their Monarchy. We believed it to be the 
form especially springing from the wants and the nature of devel¬ 
oped man, and thus directly from God. We believed God had 
thus far guarded it in its outward growth ; and we loved it—would 
die for it, not as impersonated in any one imperfect ruler, but as 
expressed in the institutions it forms, and the fruits it everywhere 
bears amongst us. Even if we were sure of finding the “ best pos¬ 
sible man,” to impersonate Government, and to rule us without check, 
we still would prefer our system. Our creed was that the highest 
development of humanity is insured by leaving the greatest possible 
liberty to individual development. And that under a few limitations, 



128 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


it would more and more be found true in our country, that the best 
government is that which governs least; until the good time comes 
on the earth when all outward government ceases, and the only 
checks on human intercourse are the Love and Principle of the indi¬ 
vidual man. 

All which and a great deal more of a metaphysical and transcen¬ 
dental kind, I leave to the imagination of the reader, picturing an 
argument-loving American and a philosophical German sitting late 
at night over mugs of Bavarian beer, and some genuine German 
mystifying tobacco. 

A warm shake of the hand when it was over, “ Schlafen Sie 
recht wohl und kommen Sie bald wieder /” and I returned to my 
lodgings. 


I take the liberty of quoting here from a letter which I received 
after I left Berlin, as farther showing the feelings of the Royalists, 
and the open-hearted German manner to a stranger. It is from 
Madame-, who will pardon the freedom for the object in¬ 

tended. 


Berlin. 

“ I thank you very much, lieber Herr B., for the friendly sympa¬ 
thy which you have retained for us in the distance. Take with you 
our most cordial ( innigsten ) wishes into your Fatherland; and 
think whiles of the old custom of our dear Germany, that those 
who have once grasped hands, do not again forget. Do not 
let yourself be disturbed, if neither I nor my husband answer your 
letter as it deserves. We stand before great events. The Lord 
hath not yet torn aside the curtain. It will soon be shown whether 




A FAREWELL. 


129 


elevation or ruin is our fate. One of either must happen; and as 
the heart of our dear, dear king is moved, so is the destiny of our 
Fatherland determined. Without the Hohenzollern there is for us 
no power and no respect on earth. “ With God for king and father- 
land!” 

“ A Republic is something great and noble. The history of the 
ancients teaches, indeed, that it has Tyranny as a companion, and 
ruin as its bequest. To me is a Republic like a beautiful woman 
full of glorious gifts, but without soul, like the lovely fable of 
Undine. * * * * * * 

“ You will not laugh at a woman’s truth, if she tells you, that 
sometimes there is no pleasure like subjection. 

11 God grant his blessing on you! If you on the sea or on the soil 
of your fatherland have any desire to greet us, do it certainly, and 
my husband and myself will thank you ! ” And the husband adds 
in a postscript, “ On the last day of your stay in Germany, receive 
our hearty greetings and wishes for your happy home-return. You 
will now be able to imagine how dear one can hold Germany, with 
all its wants and confusions. Think of us friendly the-other-side 
the ocean.” 



CHAPTER XIY. 


A BERLIN DINNER-PARTY. 

“ Ich bitte, mein Herr ! nehman Sie Platz ! Der Herr Geheim- 
rath erwartet Sie! ” “ Take a seat, sir, please ! His honor, the 

Geheimratk, is expecting you ! ” said a respectable looking German 
servant, as he threw open the doors of a handsome parlor for me. 
Der Herr Geheimrath, or in every-day language, Mr. C. was a Ber¬ 
lin gentlemen in comfortable circumstances, who had formerly been 
in political life. I found him living, like most of the aristocratic 
people in the city, way up in the top of one of the great houses. I 
had entered through a large portal, the door of which was opened 
by a porter, in a story above, with a wire and pulley. Each story 
was occupied by a separate family, and I could see from the names 
above their bells, by persons of high rank. None of the stair-ways 
had any carpeting on them, but the material was rich-looking, ap¬ 
parently varnished oak in inlaid figures, and the banisters gilded. 
The walls in the hall were broken up by oval compartments, in which 
were pretty little colored designs of faces or figures, in the classic 
style, and were ornamented with arabesque borders—all having a 
rich and massive air, and entirely different from our own style of 


ornament 


FURNITURE. 


131 


Mr. C.’s drawing-rooms were truly German again. Iligh, cheer¬ 
ful rooms, with painted ceilings, light curtains, many objects of Bo¬ 
hemian glass-ware, and vases of flowers scattered around; but no 
carpet on the polished parquette oak floor, and no heavy articles of 
furniture. On the whole, tasteful and airy, but somewhat bare com¬ 
pared to English rooms. 

Mr. C. entered soon, and we fell into pleasant conversation. In 
the course of it, I said something about this mode of occupying each 
an etage or story, and asked him, whether it was general ? He re¬ 
plied, that ther6 were not half-a-dozen families in the city who leased 
a whole house. The houses had been originally built of a large 
size by Frederick the Great to fill up the space, and since that all 
who built had followed the same style. It was much cheaper, too, 
for each family, “ and we Germans you know,” said he, “ have not 
the objection of you English to living all in the same house toge¬ 
ther. It seems more gemuthlich ! ” * 

I thought then and I have often thought since in our large Ame¬ 
rican cities, as I have seen the immense burden of rents on young 
business men, how convenient and pleasant such an arrangement 
would be with us. For a man with family, a boarding-house is the 
last residence to be desired. And yet there is no other resort in 
our great cities, under these exorbitant rents. In this Berlin-mode, 
each family can be private, cany on its own house-keeping; and 
yet need not be at much more expense than in a respectable board¬ 
ing-house. 

The more I see of the middle classes in Berlin, the lawyers, pro¬ 
fessors, merchants, Ac., the more I am surprised at the economy 
shown everywhere. Hamburgh seems luxurious by the side of it. 

* I cannot translate this word, though “ cosy v comes near it, in this place, 
except that gemuthlich expresses something higher—something of feeling. 



132 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


No house with carpeting; and few with rich furniture even. A 
family seems seldom to have more than two servants. In some 
houses of wealthy merchants, I have seen the dining-room furnished 
with beds in curtained alcoves, so shortened are they for room. 
And in nearly all, some of the sitting-rooms are turned into bed¬ 
rooms, as the first thing with a German is to have a place in which 
to chat with his friends, and after that where to lay his head. I 
see, too, that the Hamburg bountiful dinners are not in vogue here; 
and invitations are usually to supper—a substantial, plain meal. 
Yet there is the most eonstant and easy sociality everywhere; and 
it is apparent at once to the stranger, he is among people of the 
highest culture and refinement. Money seems to be spent readily 
on entertainments in music and art, and for social enjoyment; but 
not much on mere luxury or display. When a Berlin scholar, or 
man of business gives a party, he does it in a simple, unexpensive 
way, generous enough in its provision, but that not of a very costly 
kind. If he would ride out with his family, he quietly takes a 
droschky (hack). None but a few of the superannuated noblemen 
sport our New York equipages. Something of all this is due, with¬ 
out doubt, to the small means of the people; but more to their good 
sense. Towards the foreigner, there is less too of outward hospi¬ 
tality than in other German cities; but the want is more than made 
up by the lively, easy, intellectual intercourse into which he can be 
admitted; and the genuine interest taken in him, if he has any¬ 
thing worth being interested in. 

But to return to my visit at Mr. C.’s. There was to be a dinner 
party, and the rest of the company were gradually coming in. The 
ladies were in full dress; the gentlemen had much the same 
appearance with any dinner company at home, except that the mous¬ 
taches were more common. 


TABLE-TALK. 


133 


After taking our ladies into tlie dining-room, conversation com¬ 
menced at once. 

“ Sind Sie ganz orientirt in der Stadt ? ” (Are you thoroughly 
familiar with the city ?) I find is the most general first question to 
me, the stranger. That use of the word orientirt was quite new to 
me, as it is seldom found in books till of late years. “ Have you 
found your eastings '? taken your bearings—known where you are— 
become familiar ? ” I suppose to be the meaning and derivation. 
It seems applied to almost everything. 

The ladies in our chat were quite interested to know whether all 
the fine stories were true about the American gallantry to women. 
It was the paradise for women, they had heard. I told them of the 
universal attention shown them in public places; how a man would 
be thought “ no gentleman ” to let a lady stand on a steamboat or 
in a rail-road car, while he occupied a comfortable seat; and that a 
woman could travel through our country in safety, without an es¬ 
cort. They thought it must be “ because there were fewer of the 
fair sex,”—a reason I indignantly repelled—whereupon they assured 
me kindly, they quite “ understood why the Americans were such a 
free and happy people! ” 

It was very apparent in this dinner, as everywhere, how much 
better the Germans have the art of enjoyment than we. Of the 
particular courses I will not speak, as they were much handsomer 
than is customary in the middle classes, and would be no fair speci¬ 
men of Berlin dinners. But the little haste through it all; the 
variety of small dishes intended rather to fill up the time and sharpen 
the appetite, than to gorge the stomach; and the general air of the 
company, as met rather for pleasant converse than for earnest glut¬ 
tony, were all characteristic of this people, and very unlike American 
habits. Everybody of course just now is deeply interested in poli- 



134 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


tics. The news has come of a skirmish between the outposts of 
the two great armies of Austrians and Prussians at Fulda, in Hesse 
Cassel; perhaps the first meeting of those opposite tides which shall 
desolate all Europe. The troops marching towards that little province 
are equal, they say, to the armies of Napoleon’s time, in number. 
In fact, since 1815, Europe has not seen the gathering of such 
mighty masses of soldiers. The Austrian left wing, resting on 
Frankfort, numbers 80,000 men, mostly Bavarians and Wiirtem- 
bergers; as the king of Wiirtemberg hopes, it is said, to have his 
share of the plunder when it comes to the picking of Prussia—in 
the shape of the Prussian Rhine provinces. The centre now gather¬ 
ing in Saxony and Bohemia amount to 120,000 men, under the 
command of Radetzky himself. On the right, near the borders of 
Silesia, is a body of 70,000 Bohemians, who will penetrate the 
passes of the mountains, occupy that province, and act in co-opera¬ 
tion with: the -centre. It is probable 150,000 Prussians will soon 
be concentrated there likewise. 

The talk at table is that there are orders to the Prussian outposts 
to withdraw, from “ strategical considerations.” The only losses in 
the skirmish were two horses. They are describing too with great 
zest a picture in Kladderadatsch , (the German “ Punch,”—a very 
weak mixture by the way,) wherein the Prussian soldiers are seen 
marching grimly away from a battle-field, on which are the corpses 
of two horses; at the same time all looking behind fiercely at the 
line of fat, easy Bavarians, and saying, “ Aus strategischen Ruck - 
sichten (From strategical back-looks , i. e. considerations). 

No one can believe that after this grand preparation, the king 
will now retreat; yet they notice that the tone of the Deutsche 
Reform , the ministerial organ, is becoming more submissive, and 
that there is a rumor, Holstein will be utterly given up to the troops 



POLITICS. 


135 


of the Confederation. I can see the idea of yielding to those “ beer¬ 
drinking Bavarians,” galls them to the quick. There is a considera¬ 
ble variety of political characters in the company, one or two inti¬ 
mately connected with the king and attached to him ; some of the 
old Constitutionalists who worked in ’48 for a United Germany, and 
who are now becoming fast the most steady opponents of Govern¬ 
ment ; and a few Free-Traders of somewhat democratic sentiment. 
Yet they all seem to have such a love for “ poor Holstein,” and they 
relate many a story of the oppressions going on there, which I know 
to be much exaggerated, though I do not care to tell them so. 

It is plain, though little is said, that even the friends of the king 
are in doubt of him. “ No one who does not know him,” said one 
in a whisper to me, “should judge him. His misfortune is that he 
has too delicate moral perceptions. He dreads the responsibility of 
a War!” I had little doubt, in my own mind, that he dreaded 
much more rousing up the Democratic spirit in such a struggle— 
which, perhaps, afterwards neither he nor any ruler in Germany 
could put down. 

I have never been in a literary circle before, where there were not 
some intellectual dilettantists , men who pride themselves on a phil¬ 
osophical indifference to subjects which are life and death to the 
masses. I do not know whether this comes from a want of heart or 
from cowardice, but I do know I would rather meet the coarsest 
boor with a meaning in him, than these literary faineants. There 
were none here, however; and with all the Berlin persiflage, I sel¬ 
dom heard any on such subjects. Men spoke of their country, 
and her future with an expression of pain, as of the disgrace of a 
friend. 

At the close of the dinner, we all returned to the drawing-room 
for coffee, where the conversation became more general. There had 



136 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY 


been a great Panorama, in the city, of the Mississippi, and many 
questions were put to me about it. Nothing seemed to so arouse 
the imagination of the ladies as the idea of a “ primeval forest,” 
where the trees were not planted. They all lamented, however, 
that we “ had no singing-birds in our woods ! ” I find this idea 
general in Europe. I told them that I had noticed no difference 
in that respect, though in England I had heard several songsters far 
surpassing any of ours, except the mocking-bird. 

During the evening one of the gentlemen turned to me, and said 
in English, “ Your country will soon have a different language from 
that which your fathers brought over ! ” I told him, I thought not. 
Taking all our classes, there was more pure English spoken than in 
England itself. Of course we should invent new words in new cir¬ 
cumstances, but the old tongue would be always ours. 

In reply, he reckoned up to my discomfiture the number of words 
added or changed in America ; showed the change in English every¬ 
where since Chaucer’s time; alluded to the gradual variations which 
came over the classic languages, and thought English as likely to 
degenerate as Latin or Greek. It was a good instance of the Ger¬ 
man’s learning and theorizing. The man knew far more of the 
technicalities of my language, than I did myself. I told him, how¬ 
ever, that we had one great safeguard for the purity of the tongue 
for all classes, which the Romans did not have—our old Saxon 
Bible. 

He allowed that, and said that it was equally the case in Ger¬ 
many. “There is no German like those plain, strong words in 
Luther’s translation.” 

As we were upon the subject, I took the liberty of asking him 
whether some of the purists there, were not fearful of their own lan¬ 
guage ? For of all disagreeable medleys, the modern conversational 



MODERN NOVELS. 


13 7 

German seemed to me the worst. “ You have only to add an iren 
to a foreign word, and it becomes German; and near half your 
words seem of that kind, amusiren , discursiren, and a thousand 
others! ” 

He quite agreed with me. I told him, also, how few vigorous 
terse writers I found on political subjects among the modern au¬ 
thors ; and that Bulan seemed to me the only one who could at 
all compete with our essayists in style. 

“ It is too true, alas ! ” said he; “ we Germans seem to have lost 
vigor of words as well as of character, of late years.” 

In colloquial language, nothing will so utterly surprise the stranger 
—yes, shock him—as the universal profanity among the ladies. In 
the best circles of Germany, I have heard more oaths in one even¬ 
ing, than I would in the same time from a ship’s crew. “ Ach Gott! 
Mein Gott! mein Gott! Jesus Christus ! ” rung over and over 
at the veriest trifles. 

It was some time before I could accustom myself to it. Of 
course the words have no irreverent sound to them, and are 
used like the French “ Mon Dieu ! ” still how so foolish a habit 
could have become so general among sensible people surprises one. 

It is singular in the usual literary conversation, how little is 
said of modern German literature. Gothe and Schiller are “ classics” 
now; and Jean Paul , is even quite passe , so that few of the 
young people know anything about him, except his inextricable 
sentences. This would not be so strange, for the great Teachers of 
a nation are seldom discussed in common talk ; but among all the 
many romances read, there is scarcely one of the German. And an 
American is surprised to find himself discussing the naturalness of 
Johanna (Jane) Eyre's character, or the morality of Bulwer, or 



1S8 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


laughing over the remembered jokes of “ Bots ,” (Boz) as they call 
him, just as he did at home. Cooper and Irving I find everywhere, 
and the children all know “Leatherstocking,”and the Indian Chiefs 
perfectly, and have confident hopes of meeting him, if they should 
ever cross to the New World. In fact, the English and American 
novels are the mode at present in Germany, and there has scarcely ap¬ 
peared one of any worth for several years without being speedily trans¬ 
lated into German. But the foreign work, which of all others has 
been read most eagerly by thinking men in Germany these late years, 
and which is exerting a most happy influence, is Macaulay's His¬ 
tory of England. And if Macaulay never does any other good 
through it, than what is effected in this land, he will have accom¬ 
plished a great work. 

It is almost the first instance to the Germans, of history made 
dramatic; and in its exposition of the English Constitution, and its 
vivid account of the English Revolution, it is of incalculable benefit, 
and singularly appropriate to the present state of Germany. It is a 
new thing too, to the Germans, to see in union a genuine Christian 
belief and an ardent love of Liberty. 

There is another writer too of England, the freest, truest, most 
earnest spirit of this century, whose influence seems to have been as 
great here as in his own country, or in America —Dr. Arnold. It 
is very grateful to those who have admired and loved Dr. Arnold in 
secret, to find that in distant lands and under foreign languages, that 
simple, truthful spirit, that warm heart, that free, practical, reverent 
mind are equally known and appreciated. Strange, how little is 
ever said of the man, and yet how wide and deep is his influence. 

though our American novels were spoken of warmly on this 
evening, and one or two of our scientific men, the tone was generally 
of pity at our devotion to “ the practical,” and our neglect of the 



MODERN NOVELS. 


139 


intellectual. “ But it must besaid one of the learned gentlemen 
present, “ it will be long before your people have leisure to give 
themselves to Art, or to any high intellectual cultivation in one di¬ 
rection. You must clear the forests first!” 

I assured him we were not quite all “ pioneers,” and that he must 
remember the national mind had thus far been most applied, apart 
from directly practical subjects, to oratory and politics. In these, in 
specimens of eloquence and in a philosophical understanding of po¬ 
litical questions, I thought our short records would bear a very 
favorable comparison with the best of classic times. 

Besides, with us every man was far more generally furnished with 
information than in Germany. No German ever knew much out 
of his particular line of study or business. I told him, I thought in 
practical politics and useful information, he would find our “ peasants” 
superior often to his learned men. Though under a severe temp¬ 
tation, which every American will sympathize in, I did not gasco¬ 
nade , and they all listened courteously. Indeed, the last thing a 
German can ever praise is “ the poor Fatherland; ” and he is quite 
too ready to believe anything good of other countries. “Yes—yes— 
die Zukunft ist fur Sie !—The Future is *for you!’’said they 
gloomily. 

“ Society is worn out here. Perhaps Europe is to become like 
Asia. But you! everything is before you ! ” and as I wished them 
“ good evening,” the ladies assured me, if they ever were exiled 
from the old Fatherland, they would remember first our American 
gallantry to the weaker sex. 



CHAPTER XA. 


THE GERMAN PASTOR. 

I went out on. a Sunday lately to a pretty modern church in the 
Thiergarten , (the great park of Berlin,) where Buchsel preaches. 
The church is very fashionable, and almost the only one in the city 
which has a full congregation on the Sabbath. There were several 
handsome equipages of the nobility at the doors as I came up. I 
noticed that most of the pews within, had plates with the owners’ 
names upon them, and that each family had its own key. The 
whole arrangement within—ornament, seats, &c. were modern, much 
like those in our best Episcopal churches. There were candles 
burning at the altar. Mr. Buchsel is a very simple, effective preacher, 
but exceedingly conservative and devoted to the Government. His 
sermon was a beautiful, heart-felt discourse, on the “signs of the 
times.” He deplored this “ Brother war ”—this strife of German 
with German; spoke feelingly of the dark days which had come to 
their beloved Fatherland; of the dangers threatening Prussia, and 
the death of the firm, true-hearted old soldier, Count Brandenburg, 
a member of his church, who might have done so much to avert 
these evils. These were judgments on the country for its atheism 
and irreligion; still it was every Prussian’s duty to go forth in the 
strength of God into this war, on which their very existence as a 


A WALK, 


141 


nation depended, and He would be with them in their just cause. 
As I went out, I fell into conversation with a theological student, 
who was just going to be “ licensed ” as a preacher, but before he 
had passed his examen, was summoned to his regiment in the 
army ! He was sorry, he said, yet he went forth feeling “ it was a 
war for the Lord ! ” 


I felt desirous to see how a Pastor lived and worked in Germany ; 
and a few days after attending this service in Mr. B.s church, 1 
took the opportunity to visit one of the prominent clergymen, to 
whom I had letters. 

Mr. K. lives somewhat out of the city, though still within the 
limits, and the walk to his house is a long one. We pass through 
a pleasant part of Berlin, which is comparatively new, and where 
this stucco on the houses, that looks so rusty and crumbly in other 
streets, appears quite handsomely. I suspect that in a dry climate 
and dusty situation the stucco never can be made to look well a 
long time. In Hamburg, with its moist atmosphere and sea-board 
position, houses with this plaster, no older than these in Berlin, made 
a far finer appearance. Our walk carries us through one of the large 
city gates, with a guard-house on each side. Officers are patrolling 
to and fro, prepared to search every hand-cart if necessary, or to 
pounce upon the luckless individual who has no passport. There, 
just beyond the gates, is the famous Royal iron foundry, where all 
those beautiful little iron ornaments which adorn the shop windows 
of Berlin are made. 

A part of it, it will be noticed, is still under the builders’ hands, 
the part which was burned down by the people in mere spite in 
1848. Few such acts were committed in that Revolution; and 


142 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


about this gate was some very exasperating fighting. Beyond this, 
we pass along by the side of the railroad, built almost solely to con¬ 
nect the railway termini, so that in case of emergency cars could 
be sent from one to the other to convey troops from a distant part 
of the kingdom. These arrangements are now so complete in Ber¬ 
lin, that tens of thousands of soldiers could be transported in a few 
hours from the most extreme provinces to the Capital. Mr. K.’s 
house is a plain, one-story parsonage, with a pleasant little garden 
around it. The church, a modern-looking building, stands close 
by : I am shown at once into the “ study,” which has the somewhat 
unusual luxury in Berlin of a small carpet in the middle of the floor. 
The walls are lined with well-used books, showing from their titles 
that their owner has a strongly orthodox and Lutheran tendency. 
There is a very good selection too of English literature ; and, as one 
almost invariable accompaniment of every German pastor’s equipment, 
must not be forgotten the long Meerschaum -pipe and the bundle of 
choice Hamburger segars to offer to a friend. 

Mr. K. is a man of talent and accomplishments, and could have 
easily held a position more honored in other professions, and cer¬ 
tainly far more comfortable. But he evidently does not think of 
his circumstances; his heart is with his work. And a very con¬ 
siderable work it is. 

The parish—the “ Gemeinde 1 ''—over which he is placed, numbers, 
he tells me, 19,000. Of these, be it remembered, every child must 
be baptized, and, after it has reached the age of fourteen, “ con¬ 
firmed,” or it will be entitled to no civil or legal rights. As a pre¬ 
paration for the confirmation, each child must receive instruction— 
TJnterrichten —in religious subjects two hours a week for two years, 
from the pastor. It can be imagined what a task this imposes. 
One would suppose also, that the funerals in such an immense parish 



BERLIN PARISHES. 


143 


would take up a large portion of kis time; but in answer to my in¬ 
quiry he said, that though he had given notice that the offices of a 
clergyman were at the service even of the poorest, such was the in¬ 
difference to religious ceremonies among them, that out of over 500 
funerals during the year only about 80 were attended by a pastor. 
Large as this parish seems, compared to an American, it is quite 
small placed beside some of the parishes of Berlin. I am acquainted 
with one clergyman who has only one assistant, whose Gemeinde 
numbers 25,000, and there is another neighboring to it containing 
between 50,000 and 60,000 persons. Yet with all this, are their 
churches half empty, their weekly meetings scarcely attended, and 
all church enterprises almost lifeless. 

I asked Mr. K. how he accounted for this extreme indifference 
among the lower classes in Germany to religion. He thought it 
the result, he said, of the old Rationalism, which had now somewhat 
left the educated classes and had begun to work among the lower, 
and was producing an utter want of faith in anything unseen. 
“ There was one good aspect to it in Germany,” he thought: “ there 
was no mere resting in forms, such as one sees in England. There 
were 'plenty of Sadducees in Protestant Germany , but very few 
Pharisees /” The class where the purest religious feeling existed 
now, he conceived was the aristocratic. There was more being 
practically done now for humanity among the nobility than in any 
other grade of society ; and he described how ladies of the highest 
rank, from the Queen downward, were engaged in these enterprises 
of the Innere Mission, and how they frequently left the most ele¬ 
vated stations to join the Protestant institution of Diakoninnen 
(Deaconesses) at Kaiserswerth, on the Rhine, and to give up their 
best years to labors of charity. There were not a few, even then, 
ladies of noble family, he said, working as common assistants and 



144 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY 


religious teachers in the famous Hospital for Females in Berlin, under 

the superintendence of the Fraulein von H -, herself a lady of 

rank. The middle—the most intellectual circles—he thought as 
yet more, if not unbelieving, at least indifferent. 

His own efforts in his parish against this indifference of the lower 
classes, appear to have been constant and very comprehensive in 
their nature. He has mingled sociably with the people, and has 
won very considerably their confidence; and I observed afterwards, 
as we walked out, that all the little dirty children from every quarter 
run pleasantly up to him to get a shake of the hand. 

He believes—in practice at least—in accompanying spiritual re¬ 
forms with material. Accordingly he has built two houses, corres¬ 
ponding to the model lodging-houses in London, where healthy 
quarters are given to the poor at a low rent. Besides these, there 
are some other lodgings now being built, where he hopes he can 
furnish two rooms, comfortable and dry, for about half a thaler (36 
cents) a week. In addition to this, a savings’ society has been estab- 
- lished in the Gemeinde , where the poor once a week deposit their 
money, and receive it in return at the end of the season in fuel or 
provisions, furnished to them at wholesale prices, by which the im¬ 
mense loss of buying at retail price is saved the laborer, and the 
temptation to spend, lessened. 

Is it noticed how in all the best charities of Europe, that grand 
principle of Socialism is applied, of combining , in order to produce 
certain advantages to the laborer which shall not bear after them 
the bad effect of mere charities ? 

The above labors would seem to be quite enough for one man to 
perform. They are only a small part, however, of what Mr. K. has 
taken on himself. Twice a week he or some of his friends deliver 
lectures before a Mechanics’ Society, which he has formed and pro- 




A PASTOR’S DUTIES. 


145 


vided with a library and newspapers. Once a month he holds a 
meeting for Foreign Missions; twice for Home Missions, together 
with divers religious meetings during the week, when he can get any 
one to attend. Then he has formed among them a “ Society for the 
Sick,” the members of which devote themselves to caring for the sick 
of the parish ; a “ Temperance Society,” to work against the use of 
brandy, (not wine); a “ Business Society,” whose duty it is to pro¬ 
vide work for the poor sewing women and weavers out of employ. 
In addition to these, by great exertion, a society has been formed to 
seek out the workmen who have fallen into difficulty, and to advance 
them money, without interest; and also another to take charge of 
infant schools, of which there are three in the parish. It must not 
be supposed, all these societies are managed in the effective way they 
are with us. There is little “ voluntary” work among them. Mr. 
K.’s energy is probably the only thing which supports and keeps 
them alive. Still they accomplish something, and will undoubtedly 
do more and more. Besides all these duties mentioned above, there 
are two sermons to prepare every week for Sunday, and all the im¬ 
mense business of such a parish to attend to. To assist him is one 
curate , and from six to twelve voluntary co-workers, who take some¬ 
thing of the place of our deacons. For such unceasing, anxious 
labor, as this must bring, Mr. K. receives, reckoning fees from bap¬ 
tism, confirmation, and marriage ceremonies as salary, about 800 
thalers, that is, not quite 600 dollars, and his assistant perhaps 
400 dollars. He smiled at the idea, when I asked if the pastor’s 
salary was ever increased by presents from the congregation, and 
assured me very few ever took interest enough in the whole cause 
to do such things. These various facts he did not relate to me at 
all in any whining or melancholy way, but merely as facts which 
would be interesting to a stranger ; and it was evident he himself 



146 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


was very little conscious of his self-denial, and very little troubled 
by his circumstances in any way. 

I inquired in the course of the conversation, how his church was 
first built. A company of citizens in that quarter of ‘the city, he 
said, came together and petitioned for a church. The King, in 
reply, made inquiries as to whether they could pay any part of the 
sum required ? They could not, they said. Whether, if the church 
was built, they could in any way endow it ? “ They were utterly 

unable to do anything for it,” was the answer. Learning that this 
was the fact, he built their church, endowed it, and thus became the 
Patron of that parish, with the power of choosing their pastor, and 
what may be called, the Presbytery. I asked my friend whether he 
felt no inconvenience from thus being under the patronage of the 
King. “ Wo, most certainly not” he said; “ there could be no bet¬ 
ter.” He was left entirely free ; and the Presbytery, who aid him 
in managing the financial matters of the church, but in nothing else, 
were the very best possible men w r ho could be found in the parish. 
It appears, they were selected with great care by his predecessor, 
and approved by the King. From what I hear, there seem to be 
three modes in Prussia in which a pastor is appointed :—by the 
King, as in this instance, where he builds the church, or where the 
Gemeinde are on the crown-lands ; by some nobleman, who in like 
manner has founded the church, and has the privilege, like the 
English nobleman, of appointing his own clergyman to the living, 
though it should be mentioned here, with thankfulness, that no 
English custom exists of letting out the place to poor curates. The 
third method is, as in our own churches, the selection of the pastor 
by the congregation, which privilege is allowed them where they 
have built their own church. 

The church of Mr. K. is comparatively a modern-looking build- 



A PASTOR’S DUTIES. 


147 


mg, and has the very unusual luxury among the Berlin churches 
of being warmed. In fact, I know nothing in Berlin which gives 
one a more vivid idea of the indifference of the population to reli¬ 
gious observances than the cheerless, comfortless aspect of the 
churches. The opera houses and concert rooms of the city are all 
of the most cheerful, comfortable, modern style ; but there are not 
more than two or three of all the churches where a man can sit 
through a morning-service without extreme discomfort, and even 
without considerable danger of an attack of rheumatism. 

The situation and duties of Mr. K. would correspond very nearly 
to those of most German clergymen, except that as he has been 
some time in England, he has acquired a more practical, systematic 
mode of doing good than most of his brethren. It will be seen that 
the place is no sinecure. 

My friend’s opinions on the state of piety among the upper 
classes, expressed in this conversation, are to be taken with great 
allowance, as he was an enthusiastic royalist. Yet I am disposed to 
think, that in the main he was right. There is no doubt, that just 
now, “ orthodoxy”—evangelical religion—in Prussia, is fashionable ; 
that is, the King and the highest authorities favor the opinions and 
practices in that direction, and this would naturally have its influ¬ 
ence. Indeed, all accounts represent the King as sincere in his 
outward piety, and as giving very substantial aid—though rather 
enthusiastically bestowed sometimes—to these benevolent movements. 
His manner, with respect to public worship, is exceedingly simple. 
I often notice him on Sunday, walking over from the palace to the 
Domkirche (the Cathedral) attended only by a single adjutant, and 
dressed like any other army officer, in great blue overcoat, buttoned to 
the chin, and with the usual spiked helmet. His whole beaiing 



148 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


also, during the service, shows the same simplicity, and is very 
reverential indeed. 

The practice of which my friend spoke, of requiring every child 
to receive so much instruction before being confirmed, is a great 
task upon the pastor, but it must be of very considerable benefit to 
the children. I notice that the children of my landlady, and in 
other places where I have been, the children of the lower classes 
seem to set a great value on the pastor’s teachings, and read for 
them beforehand and talk about them afterwards—and I presume 
often they get almost their only real “ instruction” from him. The 
clergymen themselves wonder how any land can ever do without a 
law, requiring religious instruction. And one of the first questions 
they ask an American, always is, “ How can you be sure without a 
law, that your lower classes will not grow up utterly irreligious ?” 

It is not difficult, generally, to explain to them the immense 
advantage of our “ voluntary system but they always take refuge 
at last, in the argument, that “ it may be all very well adapted for 
a young country like America, but it will never do for such a 
society as this here !” 

I have often asked them, whether there were not some who could 
not conscientiously make the “ Confession of Faith,” required by 
law in order to become a citizen. They say, and I suppose justly, 
that very few at the age of confirmation (fourteen years) ever have 
interest enough in the matter to be very scrupulous. However, I 
have one friend whose family took a more honest view of the sub¬ 
ject, and brought themselves into very considerable legal difficul¬ 
ties, by refusing to make a “ confession” which they could not be¬ 
lieve. They escaped annoyance at length, by joining the Freien 
Gemeinden ,” (German Catholics), though they could not accept all 



PETTY TYRANNY. 


149 


the doctrines of this sect. Its very simple creed, they could assent 
to, and thus received, what at present is a legal “ confirmation.” 

There are cases of great tyranny under this law for enforcing 
Baptism and Confirmation. While upon the subject I should not 
omit to mention one which has attracted much attention recently, 
in Germany and England, and which is certainly one of the most 
remarkable instances of petty tyranny on any police record. 

It appears on the 31st of March, last year, a child was born at 
Seehausen in Prussia, which the father wished to be baptized under 
the name of “Jacobi Waldeck ,” each name being that of a distin¬ 
guished democrat. The officiating clergyman refused to baptize the 
child under such detested names. The father was determined it 
should be baptized as a Democrat, or nothing else, and accordingly 
was letting it grow up without the rite. Such a heathenish state 
of things was not to be permitted, and he was summoned before a 
court, and a guardian appointed to the child, who was empowered 
“ to baptize it with or without the names desired” by the father, 
according as the Consistory (of clergymen) should determine. They 
decided that it should be baptized with the “ usual names.” The 
parents still refused to send the child, and the guardian was pro¬ 
ceeding to administer a forced baptism, when the mother with her 
babe, suddenly disappeared, and could not be found. 

A long search was made, and at length they were both discovered 
by the police in the neighboring village of Arendsee. They were 
immediately transported by the gens d'armes to Seehausen and put 
into prison. From there, at the command of the Bur germeister, 
the child was taken by the soldiers, packed away in a basket, to the 
church, and with closed doors, the Burgermeister and gens d'armes 
as witness, it was introduced into the great Christian family ; and in 
a few minutes was carried back to its surprised parents a thoroughly 



150 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


laptized Christian child! This was not the end of the matter. 
The mother, says the legal reporter of the Vossische Zeitung , “ has 
been summoned before the court, for resistance to an officer of the 
government, in the lawful performance of his duty, and has been 
sentenced to two months' imprisonment From later accounts, it 
seems she has appealed to a higher court, but the sentence has been 
sustained! 

Nothing has occurred for years, better fitted to throw light over 
the whole system of law in Prussia, and the feelings of certain classes 
as connected with it. Clergymen so horrified at democratic names, 
as to be willing to baptize at the point of the bayonet! And courts 
able to decide what name a child shall have, and sentencing a mo¬ 
ther to the cell of the convict for objecting ! 



CHAPTER XVI. 


PICTURES. 

I am disposed to think Art has reached a higher grade of cultiva¬ 
tion in Germany now, than in any other country. Of the fine and 
elaborate school, we in America, have had very good specimens in 
the Diisseldorf paintings. But in the grand and bold works, one 
must go to Berlin or Munich, for the masters. I know nothing in 
modern painting, which can equal in genius and boldness, these 
frescoes and paintings of Kaulbach and Cornelius. They are 
the reaction of strong minds against modern frippery. Ornament, 
decoration, gaudiness—are nothing. The thought—the reality 
they demand and utter with uncompromising sternness. Beauty ! 
for beauty is the highest expression—but if that is not possible, let 
the truth be bare and strong, is their principle. Not many words, 
not many lines, but a few bold and grand strokes ! 

An excellent specimen of their style, is Kaulbach’s “ Battle of the 
Huns,” in Count Raczynski’s Gallery in this city. 

There has Iona: been a tradition among various nations that thoss 
who perished in some great world-battle, in the very moment of 
fierce conflict, met again in fiercer fight after death. There is such 
a tradition in regard to a spirit-battle between Attila’s army and the 
Romans. This picture takes its idea from that tradition. The scene 


152 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


is a battle-field, with corpses strown about, and beyond, the towers 
and battlements of Rome rising in the distance. The light is a 
pale, cold, unnatural light, like the light of early morning. From 
the battle-field the forms of the dead are rising. They are stupe¬ 
fied, half-unconscious at first; the warrior only faintly clasps the 
sword, and the spearman can hardly raise the lance; but as they 
comprehend the strange scene above, they seem to burst from the 
earth as if into a new existence. Imagination never pictured or 
scarcely dreamed of such a conception of motion. They do not fly, 
nor are they wafted, but they rise with a free, eager movement, as 
if their own spirit and passion pressed them up; as if they had 
powers of moving not possessed by man, or were creatures of a new 
element. Among the rising forms is a woman’s, her face to¬ 
wards Heaven, and her hands clasped together above her head. 
The features are hardly visible, but the outline of form is the most 
free and graceful, I ever remember to have seen in painting. All 
have human features ; but there are strange, fearful expressions on 
them, and there is something bloodless and unnatural about them 
all. Faces once seen, not easily to be forgotten; such as one sees 
in night-mare dreams. 

Above is passing a strange, terrible scene. On one side, moving 
swiftly on through the air, is a host of wild forms—the army of the 
Huns. At their head, in half-oriental robes, • supported by four 
slaves on a shield, stands Attila. He holds a scourge in his hand, 
and drives on before him a crowd of fugitives, who are grappling in 
fierce fight among themselves, or are fleeing before him, and on 
whose faces are the most terrible expressions which the mind ever 
dreamed of; looks of unearthly wrath, and fear, and malice, and 
revenge. On the other side are seen the warriors of the Romans, 
with noble and dignified faces, but saddened and almost fearful. 



BATTLE OF THE HUNS. 


153 


They do not move so swiftly; and they look and point at the cross 
which is borne in their centre. Before them, is their king leading 
them on, as if to desperate battle ; yet still with confidence appa¬ 
rently in the cross. Two timid, youthful forms, his sons, are cling¬ 
ing to his sides. Far in the heights of the air, other forms are strug¬ 
gling, seemingly in fierce conflict, but so mist-like and uncertain 
that one can hardly tell whether they are shapes only of the morn¬ 
ing clouds, or the spirits of the dead. Both armies appear to have 
risen from the field of battle, and others are continually rising to 
join passionately in the strife. 

There is no coloring scarcely in the picture, except a faint yellow. 
But the outlines and expressions are bold beyond anything I have 
ever seen in painting. The forms seems as if they might melt away 
with the first morning light, yet they are animated with a passion 
which is almost superhuman. I do not believe throughout painting, 
such intense, absorbing rage and hate is pictured as in those faces, 
and always a passion which does not seem to belong to this life. 

The first sensation before it is almost of shuddering. You remem¬ 
ber the name which mankind gave in fear to this conqueror, “ The 
Scourge of God; ” his own conviction that he was sent by the 
Almighty ; and the traditions even among the Christians of his con¬ 
nection with the Unseen. And as you gaze at the wild, dream-like 
picture, a feeling crosses over the mind, not easy to describe or ac¬ 
count for. A glimpse for a moment as it were into what is not 
of earth. 


I have always been much interested in galleries,, in studying the 
different religious conceptions of painters. The large Musflpm gal¬ 
lery of Berlin, tho ugh containing no great works of art, is excellent 

1 * 



154 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


for this purpose, as it gives the best historical exhibition of painting 
in Europe, beginning from its Byzantine origin, down to the latest 
Dutch and Flemish masters. 

In the very earliest of this collection, one finds little beauty of 
coloring or gracefulness of outline ; but there is an intensity of fervor, 
an earnestness in their conceptions of the unseen, which puts at de¬ 
fiance all the more refined spiritualizing of later masters. You are 
very sure they meant what they painted. And when a drunkard 
in the future world is pictured as tied to two hideous devils, while 
liquid fire is pumped into his mouth by another devil, you are quite 
sure the artist’s idea of punishment was an earnest one, to say the 
least. They are very material, all of them ; and I have often 
thought in walking among these works of theirs, that it would make 
a man skeptical to think of them much. Still it is a terrible mate¬ 
rialism, the materialism of a Dante, or of Job in his pictures of 
Deity. Every form or image which can convey a disagreeable or 
painful idea, is used to represent the sufferings of the wicked in the 
future world. Hideous toads are swallowing them—serpents with 
disgusting human faces are winding themselves around them— 
creatures for which there is no countertype, except in the creations 
of nightmare, are crawling over them. The revellers are having 
their orgies over again with lizards, and worms, and scorpions. The 
gluttons are crammed with loathsome substances. Others are sawed 
and turned on wheels, and crushed and roasted. 

In their conceptions of future happiness they are not so striking. 
Perhaps it is less revolting to give material representations of pain 
than of pleasure. One is shocked, too, to see Deity itself pictured 
as a gray-headed old man. Their only heaven is an assemblage of 
immense numbers of simple looking winged beings, with harps and 
violins and hand-organs; or rows of comfortable monks who are 



SPIRITUAL CONCEPTIONS. 


155 


saved by angels from the abyss below. Still with all their stiffness 
and bareness of coloring, and material conceptions, there is such an 
evident fervor about those oldest masters of the Berlin Gallery, such 
a devotion, and such an affection , that they must ever be dear to 
the student of art. 

When one gets down as far as Rubens, the representations are 
not so much of material torture as of expressions of pain, and of 
faces with demoniac malice. Beautiful female forms, with his won¬ 
derful flesh-coloring, are clasped and hurried away by demons, who 
look back with that terrible scowl of malignity which Rubens alone 
can fully give ; or faces are just seen through the darkness, writhed 
in contortions of pain. 

In nothing have all the painters made so many attempts as in 
their picturing of the spiritual world, and in nothing have they 
shown themselves so inferior in the genius of expression to the great 
artists of language. Angels have again and again been attempted, 
from the beautiful, intellectual-looking youths of the Dusseldorf 
school, and the winged, Cupid-like children for which all the 
painters, religious and profane, have such a strange affection, up to 
the abnormal creatures of the earlier masters, composed only of 
round heads and large wings, but never scarcely in a single instance 
do they give one the idea of a spiritual being—of a higher exist¬ 
ence under different laws. Perhaps the very appearance of wings 
immediately forces on us the idea of animals ; or perhaps their own 
highest ideal of angels was of pure, happy children. Raphael has as¬ 
cended very high in his ideal when he merely paints children with 
an expression of intelligence and affection, unnatural to their years. 

I am not surprised that the painters have thrown so much of 
their highest religious ideals, into the picturing of Christ as a 
child . 



156 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


It was, perhaps, their unconscious thought, that God can easiest 
touch the sin-hardened heart, through the purity and simplicity of 
childhood. 

Of Christ himself, no artist has ever had even a faintly adequate 
conception. It was some womanly monk’s imagination, not the 
Bible, which has first traced the effeminate, sentimental features, 
that now cover the canvas through the schools of all ages. If those 
pages picture anything, it is a dignified Manhood; a character of 
strong and indomitable purpose; a nature filled indeed with bound¬ 
less affections, but capable of the most sweeping indignation, and 
stern in inflexible Truthfulness. The Christ of the Bible is not the 
Christ of Art. 

Still, with all the enjoyment which I have derived from European 
Art, I must say, I turn from it with a sense of disappointment. Not 
alone from the eternal disappointmen t of the soul with its ideal; 
but I had no thought that Painting, as an art of expressing human 
feelings, was so much below the power of expression in Words. 
Beside the great Painters in language, the most gifted Artists are 
poor. In all the range of painting, there are no lines of passion, 
such as Shakspeare draws. No such absorbing, hopeless sorrow; 
no such fierce, sweeping passion. There are no faces on the canvas 
which are half so noble, as those which look upon us from the pages 
of Schiller or of Scott. 

There is so much, too, of superficiality, of want of earnestness 
about the best painting. Repenting Magdalenas are painted, and 
you forget all idea of the repentance in the beauty. Scenes of sor¬ 
row’ are drawn, and the eye is caught and absorbed in beautiful 
costume and graceful posture; and the great idea disappears. Then 
the greatest of artists have devoted their talents to such ignoble 
subjects; to conceptions which only could have arisen from a people 



DEFECTS. 


157 


altogether unmanned by luxury. It seems strange—one can 
hardly understand it—that a painter so gifted as Correggio, could 
employ his wonderful conceptions of beauty, and his power of soft, 
dreamy coloring, to consecrate subjects which would disgrace the 
foulest page of Grecian mythology, or of modern French literature. 
Rubens , too, of grosser and stronger nature, has given too often his 
life-like coloring and power of vivid expression to scenes which 
should have passed away with the sickly imagination which gave 
them birth. In truth, I have sometimes thought that these old 
Grecian conceptions, however much they have embodied themselves 
in the most beautiful forms of art, have done almost as much 
evil as good. It has needed centuries before Painting could break 
loose from them; and modern sculpture and the forms of monu¬ 
mental record, have not even yet reached any originality under them. 

But it is not alone mythology, which is searched for its most 
debasing dreams. Everything in the Jewish History, which was 
the fruit of a wild age; every deed of lust and blood and unna¬ 
tural crime which the Bible has recorded as a warning, is worked 
over and again, with delighted pencil, till the mind sickens of the 
Art, which could so revel in such scenes. 

Not that painting should be a hieroglyphic art. Beauty will 
always have its own wonderful language—even if no other idea be 
expressed—a language, telling of the highest and most solemn 
thoughts. But Art can only reach its highest point; can only 
compete with its kindred, Poetry and Oratory, when the language 
from beauty of line and color and shading, all unite in expressing 
intensely and directly the one great Idea of the painter, and that 
idea is such as can thrill the noblest and purest feelings of the 
human heart. 



CHAPTER XVII. 


DRESDEN. 

Nov. 1850-1. 

I have determined to vary my winter in Berlin, by an excursion 
to the other cities of North Germany. The weather is very bad 
now for travelling, as it rains almost every day. My objects, how¬ 
ever, are so much in-doors, and so little with the usual “ sights,” 
it does not trouble me. I have taken lodgings at once here in 
Dresden, as being much the quietest and cheapest mode of living. 

My principal object was to study Art for a few days in this quiet 
city, but I find everything in the greatest turmoil. My readers will 
remember that the little Kingdom of Saxony—not numbering so 
large a population as the State of New York—lies as a most tempt¬ 
ing bait, right between the two great powers of Austria and Prussia, 
and it has been the jealousy alone of each toward the other, which 
has prevented its being swallowed up long ago. Well, at this pre¬ 
sent time, the King has taken it into his head to reverse the autho¬ 
rity of the old Diet, and has allied himself with Austria, with whom 
are also his religious sympathies. His people, who are mostly 
Protestants, sympathize more with Prussia, but they have been 
obliged to yield, and the Saxon army has been mobilized, to give 
their assistance to the old Confederation. As Saxony lies in the 
direct line of the Austrians into Cassel, or of the Prussians towards 


SAXONY. 


159 


Vienna, there is naturally no little fear that their quiet, inoffensive 
territory may be the terrible battle-ground of foreign nations, as it 
has been so often before. Beside, the treasures collected by the old 
Saxon Kings and placed here in Dresden, would be altogether too 
great a temptation for the most virtuous government of Europe, 
provided there was once a war. Indeed, the jewels alone of the 
Grime Gewolbe (Green Vaults), would pay the expenses of Prussia 
for years to come. Accordingly, everything of value among the 
works of art, which can be carried off, is being packed up and sent 
away to the old fortress, where they rested so securely during all 
the fighting and plundering of Napoleon’s wars—the fortress of 
Koniffstein, on the Elbe, the only one in Europe which has never 
been taken—the old shelter of the Saxon Kings and Saxon treasures, 
and upon which, even the storm of war in 1812 and ’13 made no 
impression. The whole kingdom is aroused, and as I came on from 
Berlin, I could see masses of troops all along near the borders, 
ready to beset the railroad, in case of an attack of the Prussians. 
Through the town, too, there is a continued marching of companies 
of “ JageP’ or of cavalry, all attired for a rough campaign, on towards 
the Prussian boundaries. And beside these, horses and wagons, 
and heavy cannon, and an unceasing stream of straggling soldiers, 
over the old bridge so famous in Napoleon’s great battle here, and 
all the accompaniments which an approaching war brings with it. 

It will give an idea of the weight which these petty governments 
lay upon the people in Germany, to examine briefly the statistics of 
Saxony. 

The whole population of this kingdom numbered last year, (1849) 
1,894,431, or about half the population of the State of New York. 
The total expenses of government for the last three years, have 
amounted to about $5,720,000 per annum. Yet the whole civil 



160 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


and diplomatic expenses of the United States per annum, are 
only $7,339,000. The annual duties and taxes amount to over 
$3,611,000. The public debt is about $16,830,000. Before 1848, 
the Saxon army according to the laws of the German Confederation, 
numbered 13,000 men, together with 6,000 men in reserve. 

In 1849, the new Federal allotments required two to every hun¬ 
dred of the population, so that the regular forces reached the num¬ 
ber of 36,546, and 72 cannon. Out of the 1,894,000 inhabitants, 
more than 1,857,000 are Protestants, and yet they are saddled with 
a Roman Catholic Government. The old grandeur of Saxony has 
been very much reduced in this centurv : and the truly noble devo¬ 
tion of her king to Napoleon, during all his calamities, has cost her 
some of her finest territory, and occasioned in 1814 immense losses 
to her capital. 

I have been surprised at the difference which mere political situa¬ 
tion makes in the character of a people. It did not need a day’3 
intercourse with my friends and acquaintances, to show that I was 
among an entirely different population, from what I had seen in 
Prussia. Saxony has been a small, unimportant country, having 
most to fear from contentions, and very little to expect in war, so 
that gradually the whole nation has acquired a peaceful, ease-loving, 
almost effeminate character. National pride it has not—only na¬ 
tional fear ; and the whole mind and strength of the country have 
turned to art and quiet intellectual pursuits. The proud, manly 
characters of the Prussians, one does not find here. Their scholars 
do not, as in Berlin, interest themselves in political matters. They 
“ rather hide their heads in their books and specimens,” that they 
may not hear the storms which are raging all around them. Every 
one you meet at such a time as this, is fearful or desponding, and 
one longs to inspire a little of the Anglo-Saxon 'pluck into them. 



ARTISTS. 


161 


How constantly everywhere in Germany, do the evils of this 
miserable system of little separate governments, come before my 
eye ! It is as if every State in our Union were a distinct petty king¬ 
dom, with its own separate administration, its own expenses, its 
own tyranny too and hold over the people. All the burdens of a 
great government and none of its power ! May God preserve our 
Union from ever splitting into the petty and factious and inefficient 
Principalities of the German Confederacy! 

As I said before, everything was in confusion, and the most valua¬ 
ble articles of vertu packed up. By good luck, they had not begun 
on their picture gallery, and through the kindness of friends I 
gained admission and have been able to study its beautiful collec¬ 
tion every day. The fine collection of plaster casts, and the tasteful, 
though rather meagre gallery of antique statues, was also untouched. 

I was kindly introduced also to the ateliers of the various painters, 
a cultivated, really original set of men. These artists are among 
the most celebrated in Europe, though they do not have the mu¬ 
tual assistance of a school, to press their pictures forward, as the 
Diisseldorf. Wherever I meet artists in Europe, I am most pleased 
to see that so many are men of earnestness and intellectuality—and 
with noble ideas of their profession. And among the continental 
artists, I have certainly not found, that a dissolute life and devotion 
to art, are at all necessary companions, according to the old pre¬ 
judice. 

Still I may be permitted to express the wish without impertinence, 
that among men of such generous purposes, for the sake of them¬ 
selves and humanity, and for the sake of that noble Art, which they 
study, there might be a deeper religious character. 

Art is not, in these days, fulfilling its highest destiny. And 



162 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


there are means of elevating humanity—not yet essayed—which 
belong alone to its field, and which the cause of Progress cannot do 
without. 


HESSE-CASSEL. 

December, 1850. 

As the Conferences of Olmiitz have just finished, and as the Con¬ 
ferences which are to determine the condition of Germany for tho 
next year, are to be held in Dresden within a few days, it may be 
proper here to speak briefly of the matters in dispute. 

It will be remembered, that during this last year, there have been 
two German Unions —the Austrian in the form of the old Bund , 
represented at Frankfort, and the Prussian, represented at Erfurt. 
The little principality of Hesse-Cassel at first joined the Prussian. 
But the Elector, being in want of money, and not being able to col¬ 
lect it in a constitutional manner, thought the old Confederacy, natu¬ 
rally, more suited to his purpose, and left the Prussian for the 
Austrian. 

Twice he demanded supplies, not permitted by the budget, and 
the Chambers refused and were adjourned. The country was now 
put under martial law, though army and officials and peoplo pro¬ 
tested against such an arbitrary act. The Elector persevered, confi¬ 
dent of his game, and appealed to Austria for aid. 

The people, on the other hand, appealed to Prussia, and Prussian 
troops were marched in to protect this member of the separate 
Union ( Sonderbund .) 

The threats and bold bearing, and the sudden retreat of Prussia 
have already been incidentally mentioned. Her present position will 




THE CONFERENCE. 


163 


best appear from the results of this conference between Schwarzen- 
berg and Manteuffel, at Olmiitz, (November 29, 1850). 

These are thus reported:—1. That each government, together 
with its allies, shall appoint Commissioners to meet in Dresden, for 
the final settlement -of all these difficulties. 2. That, in order to 
preserve order in Hesse-Cassel, the troops which the Elector may 
call in, shall have the right of passing over the Prussian military 
roads, and that, for the after preservation of law and order, one bat¬ 
talion of Prussians, and one of Austrians, shall be allowed to remain 
in the kingdom. Next, that Commissioners from each government 
shall proceed to Holstein and attempt to induce the government of 
the Duchies to reduce their army, and withdraw their forces behind 
the Eyder, and also endeavor to persuade the Danish government to 
send in no more troops into Holstein than shall be absolutely neces¬ 
sary for the establishment of order. 

These are the principal points of the agreement. How do they 
compare with the former claims of Prussia ? It will be remembered 
the Prussian government has always asserted that the old Union 
did not at all represent Germany, and, accordingly, had no right to 
interfere in the affairs of a member of the new Union and an ally of 
Prussia. This is altogether waived, and the legal existence of the 
Bundestag is acknowledged; or if not, it is quite clearly implied, in 
the authority conceded to her. Prussia had objected also to any inva¬ 
sion of Cassel, on the ground that she alone had the right of pas¬ 
sage through the kingdom ; and that any stationing of foreign troops 
there would be in effect the separating her Rhenish Provinces from 
the central. Here, however, such invasion is not only allowed, but 
the use of the “ Military Roads ” given to the foreign armies. She 
had claimed beside, that the cause of the Duchies was a just one. 
Her armies had fought for it, and her soldiers and means had sup- 



164 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


plied the insurgent troops. She had acknowledged their rightful 
independence, and had claimed Holstein as a part of the new Ger¬ 
man Union. This too is all quietly abandoned, and the deputies 
will induce the men, whom a year ago they honored as patriots 
struggling for their rights, to forsake their cause—“ to withdraw 
their troops behind the Eyder ! ”—in other words, to hasten as fast 
as they can from a land where they are rebels and traitors ! This 
is the result of Prussian diplomacy! Can we wonder at some slight 
discontent on the part of people, who have not learned this rapid 
diplomatic mode of changing facts ? 

In the mean time, how goes it with poor Cassel ? The country 
is not a rich one, and, in the best of times, the people have a hard 
work to live. Now, not only has their court, with its profits, been 
dispersed, but, in the first place, an immense force of the Prussians 
has been quartered upon them. The Prussians have acted kindly ; 
still of course, they consumed enormously the substance of the land. 
Now the Prussians retire, and close upon their heels, the Bavarians 
pour in over the land; more greedy, less friendly to the people. 
They encamp in their houses; they consume their carefully saved 
provisions, force the peasants to give up their horses for the cavalry, 
and are, in fact, bringing the country near upon a famine; so that 
in some parts, the price of provisions has arisen beyond all parallel. 
No sign of yielding, however, appears as yet in that quiet, but most 
steady population. The officers of the army, to the number of sev¬ 
eral hundreds, have thrown up their commissions and have left 
themselves and families without any means of support, rather than 
help to violate the Constitution which they have sworn to obey. 
Deputies of high character have gone on from Prussia, to induce 
the members of the Chambers to assent only in part to some of the 
unconstitutional demands of the Elector. But in vain. The people 



A NOBLE RESISTANCE. 


65 


know their right; and, very quietly, but with a firmness infinitely 
nobler than any noisy courage, they stand by it. I have alluded to 
this resistance before. I never can think of it without a thrill of 
sympathy and admiration for that suffering and unyielding people. 
I do not believe History can give a parallel of a resistance to op¬ 
pression so reasonable and so deeply founded. One wonders, as he 
looks at it, how the usual passions and excitement of men have been 
governed, that they could act so wisely and carefully. An open re¬ 
bellion would have laid their country in a day, under an overpow¬ 
ering army of either Austrians or Bavarians, and the tyrannical, 
stupid old Elector would have been reinstated more firmly than 
ever. They have simply rested on their Constitution, and have tried 
the virtues of passive resistance. They are suffering merely for 
their rights. In my opinion, a better act for constitutional progress 
has not been done this century, than this quiet resistance of the 
Hessians. The spectacle of a whole people, calmly and rationally 
letting their land be trampled and wasted of almost its last morsel, 
by foreign armies, rather than yield an item of their Constitutional 
rights, has something in it, rather grand, and gives men the impres¬ 
sion that there must be something hare worth defending! 

Of course the only result can be defeat—defeat by the overpow¬ 
ering brute-force of Austria—another act in that sad, sad drama, 
which began with Italy and Hungary; and which will end— 
where ? 

As I see more and more of these wrongs in Europe, I find my¬ 
self praying with tears, “ How long , 0 Lord ! Is this heart-crushing 
Tyranny to be forever Shall the day ever come when these op¬ 
pressions, and this trampling on Freedom and Justice, and crush¬ 
ing of men’s rights, cease ? Shall these brave, free hearts, who have 



166 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


struggled and suffered so long for Germany, have no ray, no glim¬ 
mer of hope ? ” 

His ways are not to be judged from a year or a century. We 
will not doubt. Wrong and violence triumph now among men; 
yet not for ever, as He is good! 

In the words of the mournful old chaunt of the Jews, “ Even in 
our day , 0 Lord ! even in our day , build again Jerusalem ! ” 



CHAPTEK XIX. 


HALLE-STUDENT-LIFE. 

Dec. 1850. 

There arc not many more disagreeable places in Germany than 
Halle in winter. The streets are narrow, and get little of the sun¬ 
light in them. The mud and water settles in the thoroughfares, 
and never runs off, and the luxury of dry, level sidewalks is altoge¬ 
ther unknown—what are called “sidewalks” being jagged, mac¬ 
adamized paths, which are quite as muddy as the streets. The 
town, too, has an old, worn, dreary look, which might be interesting 
in another season, but is gloomy in this. Still, despite all this, for 
myself I am enjoying Halle quite as much as if it were a more 
beautiful place. It is a University town, and as is usual in such 
places, a cultivated, learned society has gathered in it. I could not 
form any very definite opinion of the tone of society in Halle, 
though, apparently the same fact holds here which does usually 
in exclusively literary towns :—that society becomes one-sided and 
less interesting, where there is not a mingling in it of men of various 
pursuits. 

One of the literati, to whom I had letters, was Dr. Tho- 
luck, and it happened the first night, as I called on him, I 
stumbled in on a little exercise which is quite peculiar to him. It 
seems he has always been very desirous of becoming intimately 
acquainted with the students, and for that purpose allows some to 


168 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


live in his family, and takes them with him on his travels, and is 
very familiar with them. 

With the same object he has commenced daring the last year or 
two, a kind of conversational meeting, where, however, he usually 
does most of the talking. There was such a meeting that night in 
one of his parlors, and as I came into the crowded room, he was 
giving an animated description of a journey he had taken the last 
summer in Wiirtemberg. 

In personal appearance he has decidedly a scholarly air, with a 
fine forehead and keen eye, though in size he is somewhat small. 
He spoke with a clear, deep voice, much deeper than one would 
have expected from his reduced frame. He told, first of his travel¬ 
ling, then of the great meeting of the friends of the “ Inner Mis¬ 
sion” in Stuttgart (the Kirchentag , as they call the meeting), of 
the hospitality of the citizens, and the intense interest of all in the pro¬ 
ceedings ; then of their own discussions in the assembly, and the 
narrow escape they had from making it merely an arena of political 
contests, especially with reference to the Schleswig-Holstein ques¬ 
tion. Something of the objects and the great results, also, of the 
Inner Mission, were touched upon; and finally, he came to what 
was the more especial subject of his remarks—the former condition 
of the Universities. He spoke of Halle, of his connection with it, 
of the command which some five-and-twenty years ago came to him 
from the king, to take a professorship in that University which had 
so abandoned the faith of its fathers. He loved Berlin, he said ; 
in Berlin was his home. His old friends, and many who sympa¬ 
thized deeply in his religious views, were there. He dreaded to 
leave it. In Halle, among a large and influential corps of learned 
men, there was only one pastor and a superannuated “ Candidat ,” 
who could in any way stand by him. He was to go there, a young 



THOLUCK. 


169 


man, with unpopular opinions, to stem the general tide of Rational¬ 
ism. He had many fears, but he at length resolved to attempt it. 
He then described in a most amusing manner, the condition of the 
University at the time of his coming—the universal rowdyism 
among the students; the highflown religious instruction, and tran¬ 
scendental tone even in prayer, so that the common people used to 
look on, almost stupefied. At first, he said, he only had ' four 
students who embraced the views he was supporting, and three of 
these were not especially remarkable for intellectual acumen , and 
the fourth rather prided himself on his deep religious struggles. 
Rationalism was all the vogue. To be an “ Orthodox ” was the 
mark either of a “ Dummkopf ’ (dolt), or a “ Fanatiker” (fanatic). 
In all that concerned Christian faith and practical religion the 
University was almost lifeless. 

He did not relate the result of his labors. But it may not be 
unknown in America, that Tholuck’s influence under a Higher, has 
been the means of almost Christianizing Halle. With a mind 
fresh and interesting—even if not always strictly logical—with a 
learning of wonderful extent and variety, and all the accomplish¬ 
ments of a “ man of the world,” it is not surprising he has gained 
a deep influence over the students and the University at Halle. 
The simple, humble, practical piety, too, which spoke out all 
through this speech, has worked its way among the minds here; 
and instead now of thex being but one Professor with what are 
called “ evangelical, views,” the whole Faculty, nearly, are of that 
school, and the exceptions are the Rationalists. Thoiuck’s ortho¬ 
doxy, too, is not of that strict, narrow kind, which one finds now 
occasionally in Germany, as a re-action from Rationalism—the 
orthodoxy which dreads inquiry and forbids freedom. It is evi¬ 
dent, his mind works freely on all religious questions. Some 
8 



170 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


thoughts of his, of iate, on a subject whose philosophical theory 
demands an investigation from earnest minds everywhere—“ Inspi¬ 
ration”—have called forth no little opposition from certain orthodox 
quarters. 

The close of his remarks consisted mostly of heartfelt ad¬ 
vice on the difficulties peculiar to students—the conceit and self- 
confidence they are liable to, and the discouragement they will often 
feel in struggling with their defects, and the strange struggle which 
with them, as with all, rages between what they desire for the 
moment and what they desire really; what they “ would,” and 
what they “ do.” His tone was deep and full of feeling ; and the 
earnestness of his manner and thought must have reached every 
heart. 

I was considerably surprised in what I saw of Tholuck that even¬ 
ing. I had expected to find an elegant, somewhat mystical scholar, 
with no especial practical bias whatever. All his remarks, however, 
showed a keen knowledge of human nature, and even a somewhat 
humorous eye for its weaknesses. He had evidently been among 
men, and knew something of the art of managing them. As a 
speaker and preacher, too, he must be a man of no inconsiderable 
power. Perhaps fault might have been found with his speaking so 
often of himself; but, after all, when a man has accomplished so 
much as he has, it seems to me he ought to have the liberty of tell¬ 
ing of it. 

I found, while in Halle, that there were several Americans there, 
very intelligent, gentlemanly fellows. Through them I was made 
acquainted with the students. We met a circle of them first, at a 
“ coffee party” in the afternoon. They were hand and glove with 
us in a few minutes; most social, easy men. A kind of romance 
and enthusiasm, too, about them, which is very refreshing. One of 



A ‘ COFFEE PARTY.” 


171 


them told me, that no student ever saluted another with “ Guten 
Abend! ” (Good evening), but always “ Guten Morgen!" (Good 
morning), as “ with them it was always morning I” 

We discussed politics; they were enthusiastic for freedom, but 
evidently had rather vague ideas of it. I told them, that “ they, 
like all the Germans, did not have confidence enough in the people.” 
They allowed it, and said they had no reason for it, thus far in 
European revolutions. We explained to them our system in 
America; and, after some discussion, they admitted its success, and 
very politely too, that we were “ the most unprejudiced set of 
Americans they had met.” 

The walls of the room were covered with various spruce little 
figures of students, in outline or charcoal sketching. On inquiry, 
it appeared, these were the heroes of the respective “ Corps” or 
Secret Societies in former years, and that their fame was thus trans¬ 
mitted to posterity. After a very sociable afternoon together, in 
which coffee enough was absorbed and cigars smoked to have 
shattered irretrievably the nervous constitution of any one but a 
German, we adjourned to a lecture, from which they promised us 
much entertainment. It was from Erdmann, and one of the regu¬ 
lar Historical Course—subject, “ Student Life.” 

It was amusing to hear such a subject as this, carefully and 
laboriously analyzed, and the effect of it, as one element of Ger¬ 
man institutions, so closely traced. * According to the lecturer the 
student was the ‘‘ Aristocrat” of German life—in the class which 
possessed the most peculiar privileges and influence. Without 
going minutely into the lecture, I would say that the idea 
throughout was not that the student was a man of the world and 
with the responsibility and aims of other men, but that he was a 
member of a peculiar class—a class whose distinct existence was 



172 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


necessary to the welfare of the other classes of the country; and 
that, therefore, any sinking of the importance of this body, as occurs 
in a large city, or any uniting it with other classes, was very much 
to be deprecated. 

I told our German friends, in returning home, that such a lecture 
could never apply to our country; that the students never have 
formed a distinct class with us, and we hoped they never would. 
We would prefer them to be like the other citizens of the State, 
and many of us found it one of the greatest evils of our sytem now, 
that College-men knew so little of the world. 

They replied, and very justly, I think, that in Germany almost 
the only class which contains within it any free and independent 
principles, is the student-class. “We should have had no Resurrec¬ 
tion of Germany in 1814,” said they, “if it had not been for the 
universal movement among the students ; and in ’48, it was the 
students who headed the Revolution everywhere, and who stirred 
up the People!” 

It is true, without doubt; that in Northern Europe, and even in 
Austria, the Universities, beyond all other Institutions of the State, 
are the repositories of free and noble ideas. The student is a sa¬ 
cred, inviolable personage, whose rights even the Austrian police 
dare not as yet invade; and we do not deny that any merging of 
these universities into other Institutions, or breaking down of the 
guards which they have thrown around themselves, is to be deeply 
deplored by the friends of Freedom. Still, I could not avoid think¬ 
ing in this conversation, though I said nothing, that it was a bad 
sign for a country, when its boys are the leaders of its Revolutions. 
In America and Hungary, it was the prime of the manhood which 
headed the struggle. And that it did not speak very favorably for 
the boasted influence of these Institutions, that the Radical of the 



STUDENT MANNERS. 


173 


University, so soon became a Conservative after leaving it; and 
that a government-office had with the majority such a tranquilizing 
and soothing influence over their enthusiastic ideas of Human 
Freedom. 

In parting with my friends in the evening, I felt as if I had known 
them for years, and they assured me in the most handsome man¬ 
ner, that I was made for a student, and that I had “ die echte 
Deutsche Gutmuthigkdt! ” (the genuine German good nature !) 

I notice in Halle, and in Leipsic also, more of the genuine 
student-costume than in Berlin, or in many other university towns* 
The high jack-boots, reaching up to the thigh, the jaunty little red 
or yellow caps, just set on the front part of the head, and the vel¬ 
veteen coats with curious devices, figure everywhere in the streets. 
Here, as everywhere, the students seem to differ very little in age 
from our own, though I understand the average age of entering at 
Halle is about nineteen, which perhaps is a little higher than in 
some of the New England colleges. 

I like very much the bearing of the Professors and students to¬ 
ward one another, in these Universities. The manners are gentle¬ 
manly, but nothing more. There is no repelling distance on one 
side, or excessive deference on the other. They walk together and 
meet each other in society, and make excursions in company in sum¬ 
mer ; and the feeling between them is of friends, though of friends 
differing in years and experience. 

It is rather amusing to see how the students in the lecture-room 
govern themselves, and indeed the Professor too sometimes. If a 
man comes in late, or makes any unusual noise, so that they cannot 
hear the lecturer, he is hissed in a manner which is decidedly un¬ 
pleasant ; and if the lecturer himself speaks so fast that they do not 



174 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


catch the idea, a sort of “ hush ” always passes around, and the un¬ 
intelligible passage is repeated. 

One evening while I was there I was invited to what is called a 
1 Verbindung ” among the students. My readers may know that 
all the students through the German universities, who are members 
of a “ Chor ,” have what they call the “ Kneipen” a social party, 
where they smoke and sing and drink beer in a way which would 
alarm a veteran toper. I was present in one at Heidelberg, and a 
more senseless, stupid, beer-swilling performance I have never seen 
in any tap-room of England. 

It has been the desire of Dr. Tholuck aud some others here, that 
something different might be formed, especially among the theolo- 
' gical students, and that a society might be started in which any 
religious student could have social enjoyment, and at the same time 
sympathy in higher matters. Accordingly with this idea, the Ver¬ 
bindung was formed, and I suppose the majority of the members 
are theological students. As I came in, I found a company of 
some thirty or forty seated at a long table, each with his mug of 
beer and pipe before him, and all in the most animated conversa¬ 
tion. I have hardly ever seen a more intelligent, genial-looking set 
of men, and the conversation was really very interesting, and often 
serious in tone. They evidently met, after hard study, for relaxa¬ 
tion, and though there was great liveliness, there was no kind of ex¬ 
cess. The evening was varied with some amusing mock-auctions, 
and various songs which were sung with the greatest spirit. One 
patriotic song, in which the valor of the Prussians was the theme, 
was sung again and again in a manner which showed something 
more than common interest in it. I observed that there were a few 
who took no part in it—probably students from South Germany 
who sympathized with the Austrians. 



THEOLOGICAL PARTY. 


175 


About eleven o’clock, I left the party, with very agreeable impres¬ 
sions of the Verbindung as compared with the Kneipen , and with 
the chorus of the valorous song, ringing long after through my 
dreams that night: 


“ Die Preussen sind da ! Die Preussen sind da /” 
w For the Prussians are there ! The Prussians are there !” 






CHAPTEK XIX. 


UNIVERSITIES- * * * * HANOVER. 

I cannot leave Halle without expressing my sense of the con¬ 
trast between the American and the German Universities. 

Whatever our Colleges may have done, they have certainly in 
one respect proved a failure—they have never succeeded in producing 
any genuine intellectual enthusiasm whatever, among the mass of the 
students. I never yet met a set of College-men in America, who 
took any deep interest in their pursuits. The idea with most is, 
that College-life is a kind of wearisome sea voyage—the great 
object lying beyond—and Liat their first duty to the studies is to 
get rid of them. With some of the best minds, half of the most 
laborious efforts of the four years are spent in gulling tutors, and 
rushing through recitations on small capital. If the lesson is broken 
up, or the lecture put off, it is considered a victory. The teacher 
is the student’s natural enemy in our Colleges. Those who 
do study, work so mechanically, for “ honors,’’ or under some 
equally unworthy motive, that it is hard to imagine any high 
intellectual interest in the pursuit. The thing is the more remark¬ 
able, as in all the intellectual pursuits of active life- we find in 
America, the most absorbed enthusiasm and activity. But the 
moment we enter a College, even among men no younger than 


AMERICAN UNIVERSITIES. 


177 


those without, it is all changed. The student’s business is a bore — a 
task—a punishment—and the sooner it is over the better. 

There are exceptions to these remarks; but I am sure that in 
their general truth, I shall have the agreement of the mass of Col¬ 
lege graduates throughout the country, whether they care to express 
it or not. 

The appearance of things in a German University is utterly dif¬ 
ferent, and one sees at once that the common idea of their pursuits, 
is quite another from that of our students at home. There is the 
deepest attention in the lectures. The students constantly discuss 
and talk over their studies. There is as much enthusiasm among 
them for an abstract theme, or a scientific subject they are investi¬ 
gating, as there is among the politicians or the business men with 
out, in their pursuits. This studying is their business, their pro¬ 
fession, and they know it; and the mass of them would no more 
think of shirking lectures, than a botanist would of getting rid of 
his flowers, or a lawyer of his briefs. 

The feeling towards the teachers, too, is very different. With 
less outward deference than with us, there is a far deeper love and 
reverence—a feeling that these are great men among them, who are 
helping them on to higher stages of knowledge, and that any assist¬ 
ance from them is a kindness, and that their intercourse and instruc¬ 
tion is a privilege to be received with gratitude. 

I am aware that there are many exceptions to this, especially 
among the “ corps members,” and exceptions there naturally would 
be, where so many attend the University merely because it is re¬ 
quired by their station in society; but among the great majority of 
those who enter the institution—as with us—for the sake of educa¬ 
tion, and who expect to gain their livelihood by their intellectual 
efforts, I am confident there is generally this high intellectual en- 
8 * 



178 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


thusiasra, an enthusiasm which seems to me almost utterly wanting 
in our colleges. 

The causes of this difference will not be found in the greater youth 
of our students, as contrary to my expectation, there is very little 
difference in years. Nor will it altogether in the different nature of 
the studies pursued, as the last half of our course corresponds almost 
precisely with a part of the course in a German university. The 
great and prominent reason of this difference is in the fact that the 
German system is, from beginning to end, a voluntary system. No 
student is obliged to attend lectures. No account is taken of pre¬ 
sence or absence. No strict supervision is maintained over him with 
respect to his studies. The whole matter is left to his own sense of 
responsibility, or his interest in the subjects taught. He is treated 
at once as a man —as a reasonable and responsible man. And the 
effect is, with a few exceptions, what we might expect—he acts like 
one. The idelf is not in any way brought before his mind, that the 
studies are a task—a burden, placed on him by another. He can 
stay away or attend, as he chooses. The whole impression left is 
that study is a privilege, an intellectual pleasure. 

This is not the idea in our colleges. And whether this be the 
right explanation or not of the difference, the fact is worth consider¬ 
ing. And it is worth considering, also, that where the voluntary 
system is tried, as in our professional schools, the intellectual life, 
the enthusiasm for study, is far higher than what appears under the 
other system. 

We know that against the evils mentioned here, many of the 
teachers of our colleges have struggled long and earnestly. That 
more than anything else, they have labored to infuse into college 
life a higher moral enthusiasm. If they have not succeeded, the 
fault, with many, has been in the system, not in themselves. 



MAGDEBURG. 


179 


No one can doubt, of course, that even with these defects, our col¬ 
lege system has done much for the thought of the* country. But 
in my opinion, the great benefit of the course, the highest intellec¬ 
tual life, will be found to be not so much from the regular studies 
as from the contact of the students’ minds with one another, from 
the general intercourse, from the “ voluntary studies,” and from 
those literary and debating societies which form the most original 
feature of our college course. 


From Halle, I travelled by rail to Magdeburg, on my course to 
Hanover. I was interested to see the old city which had borne so many 
terrible sieges, and which is destined yet, if another European war 
takes place, to play an important part. It is probably the largest 
fortified town in Europe, and would require an army of more than 
50,000 men to thoroughly invest it. Its importance consists in its 
artificial defences, and in its commanding the line of the Elbe. As 
I studied from the high Cathedral tower its long green fines of for¬ 
tifications, and saw how marsh and river, and every contrivance of 
art defended it, I wondered more than ever at that utter prostration 
of the Prussian nation in 1806, which had delivered it almost with¬ 
out a stroke to Napoleon. There were heavy masses of soldiers in 
various parts of the defences, in preparation for the coming war, so 
that the war-like picture was complete. 

From this city, a pleasant ride on the railroad carried me to Hano¬ 
ver, where I spent a few days most happily. I cannot refrain here 
from expressing my obligations to Prof. Oesterly, the court painter 
of Hanover, a most accomplished and truly religious artist, to whose 
courtesies I owe some very pleasant hours in the city. Everywhere 
that I went among the citizens, I heard accounts of their gruff, 



180 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


honest, indomitable old king.* He had come there (in 1837) from 
England, determined to govern absolutely, not so much because he 
objected to popular principles, as because he wanted his own way. 
The reputation which preceded him was notoriously bad. A brutal, 
imperious man; brave indeed, but under strong suspicions of hav¬ 
ing murdered his own valet; and disgraced by the worst immorali¬ 
ties—to such a degree, that he could not appear in the public 
streets of London, without being “groaned.” His fame had not 
belied him, for he commenced a most unprovoked attack at once on 
the Constitution of ’33, under the pretext of reverting to that of ’19. 
The great fault of the former, in his eyes, being that one of its pro¬ 
visions declared the “incapacity of any heir to the throne who 
suffered under a physical or moral defect.” His only son was blind. 
The country resisted his efforts, especially for the reason, that the 
last Constitution gave a control over the finances to the ministry. 
Many of the cities refused to send deputies to the Parliament, under 
the old Constitution. And several of the most prominent profes¬ 
sors at Gottingen entered a public protest against this violation of 
the people’s rights. Resistance only inflamed the imperious old 
man; and he swore, that he would leave them no Constitution at 
all. The Parliament was declared dissolved, and the professors 
were banished. The contest continued for some years between 
King and People, until the former had carried all his points, and his 
subjects had settled down into a discontented submission. Then, 
very characteristically, when not forced, he restored of his own 
accord many of their old privileges. The administration of justice 
was reformed; and though the old Englishman was arbitrary, it 
was found soon, he was always on the side of the poor man and of 
justice. He managed his own finances too, without a responsible 
* Ernest Augustus, formerly Duke of Cumberland, son of George III. 



ANECDOTE OF THE KING. 


181 


ministry; but it soon appeared, they were much more honestly 
farmed than under the old system. 

It is related of the King, that a poor countryman applied one 
day for an audience, and according to his rule that no one should 
be refused, was admitted, The man complained that the judge of 
his village neglected his duties—left the business with the clerk—• 
and was amusing himself with hunting and sports, so that the poor 
could not get their rights. 

Ernest heard him through—said nothing—but before the coun¬ 
tryman could have fairly reached the city gates, was posting in a 
private carriage as fast as horses would carry him, to the village ot 
the unfortunate judge. The carriage stopped before the court, the 
King, in citizen’s dress, rushed up the steps, demanded the judge, 
and found that he was engaged as described; called for the clerk, 
and substantiated everything through him; sat down and wrote 
off something hastily on a bit of paper and handed it to the clerk, 
and was rattling off again in his carriage. The clerk to his amaze¬ 
ment, on opening the paper, found that it contained an order foi 
the dismission of the judge, and his own appointment in his place, 
signed with the name of the King of Hanover! 

Ernest had much of the worst English qualities. He was coarse 
and brutal; and it was said, he would curse and beat even the 
ladies in attendance, if they offended him. No one loved him, and 
the most stood in mortal fear of his anger. Still he had, too, some¬ 
thing of the English punctuality and honesty. Before his reign, 
the court tradesmen and workmen were in the habit of executing 
orders with true German ease and leisure, whatever speed they had 
promised. With Ernest, if any man—carpenter or artist—did 
not have his task fully completed at the exact time promised, his 
work was rejected, or his services refused henceforth entirely. The 



182 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


people told me, that a great reform had been introduced everywhere 
in the Hanoverian business, through this exactness of the court. 
The King, too, always kept his word, and was inexorable to any 
one who did not. He has the glory of being almost the only 
sovereign in Europe who promised liberty to his subjects in 1848, 
without being compelled to it, and who kept his promise, after he 
had the power to break it. 

In that year, the trial by jury, a fair liberty of the press, and a 
parliamentary system of two Houses, whose election was based on 
a property-qualification, was definitely settled in Hanover. Still, 
though liberal in its tone, the Government of Hanover has never 
corresponded in its fundamental principles with the wishes of the 
majority of the citizens. 

It remains to be seen in a few years whether that liberty-loving 
people will remain as quietly under the blind, weak son, as they 
did under the strong, imperious old father. 

It is probable, in these last years, the interest taken in the Federal 
question of Germany has removed public attention in Hanover, from 
their own difficulties. After the extinction of the Great National 
Assembly at Frankfort, the king of Hanover, as we have before 
related, formed an alliance (May 26, 1849) with the kings of Prus¬ 
sia and Saxony. The reservations, however, made by him in this 
alliance, gave him liberty to leave it, when it suited his convenience. 
And accordingly at the summoning of a new German Parliament at 
Erfurt, by Prussia, Hanover quietly broke her relations with the 
parties; and much to the vexation of Prussia, stood for a while 
separated both from the Austrian and Prussian ranks. This posi¬ 
tion, the confidence of the people in their king, and the weight of 
his character through Germany, have given Hanover much influence 
in the various crises, during this last year. To its honor, be it said, 



HANOVER. 


183 


tlie Hanoverian Government firmly refused to have any share in the 
late tyrannical federal intervention in Hesse-Cassel. 

The general prosperity of Hanover, the citizens say, has been 
much improved since the residence of their own king among them, 
as the court draws many branches of labor to it, and the royal reve¬ 
nues are now spent within the country. 

Hanover is the centre of another of those singular “ Protection- 
Unions,” which exist in Germany—the Stenerverein .* Of this and 
the larger Prussian Union, the Zollverein, I may have more to say 
hereafter. It will be sufficient to observe here, that this Union 
founded in 1834, embraces nearly all of Hanover, the Duchy of 
Oldenburg, the Principality of Schaumburg-Lippe, a part of Bruns¬ 
wick, and certain small provinces of Prussia. 

The basis of the Union is a lower rate of duties than that of its 
rival, the Prussian. Its commerce is principally through the ports 
of Bremen and Hamburg. Hanover has never been a manufactur¬ 
ing country ; agriculture is the principal branch, and perhaps in 
consequence, she has always, thus far, inclined to low tariffs. One 
cause, without doubt, of the low state of the manufacturing interest, 
is in the burdensome laws with regard to apprentices in trades; re¬ 
quiring each one to travel three years in foreign countries; to be 
member of a corporation and to possess the right of citizenship, be¬ 
fore he can set up business for himself. 

The annual duties in Hanover, have amounted for several years 
to about $1,400,000. The commercial marine this year (1850) is 
estimated at 55,000 tons. 

Hanover is not so populous as Ohio, numbering only 1,759,000 
inhabitants, yet her expenses are more than $5,780,000 per annum, 
of which the king takes about $420,000; and the contingent which 
she must always stand ready to furnish to the Union is 36,000 men. 

* See Appendix. 



CHAPTER XX. 


BERLIN AGAIN ! WINTER AMUSEMENTS. 

December, 1860. 

I extract from a letter, as giving best my impressions on re¬ 
turning. 

“ Dear T-: I only stopped for a short visit in Hamburg, and 

came back at once here to my old quarters. 

“ I did not go directly to my German acquaintances, but having 
geTcriegt your letter and refreshed myself with it, I called on some 
Americans, whom I knew here. I was not at all prepared for the 
contrast. The truth is, I had been in Hamburg, as in a home ; and 
the last night, my friends looked quite as blue as I did, at my leav¬ 
ing. Then to come right down among these men—all of them 
with a kind of supercilious indifference to everything—and a sort of 
hardness of manner which I begin almost to think, American—it was 
like jumping into a cold bath. It disappointed me, and I was glad to 
get to bed and forget it. This humanity of the Germans, becomes 
almost a necessity of life to one. To be able to meet men, as if you 
had an interest in them, and they in you—as if it wasn’t poetry that 
you were “ brothers,” and it was no impertinence to talk freely of 
their affairs, or intrusion or impropriety to speak of your own—to 
have the abiding, underlying idea of your intercourse, all the while 



SKATING. 


185 


i kind of open-hearted, social respect. This is what I like so in 
<fiem, and what I did not find in these fellows, and the want of 
which will cool me off so, when I get home.” 


One of our pleasantest out-door recreations now, is a skating- 
party on the Wiesen, or “ Meadows,” about a mile from the city ? 
through the Thiergarten. We usually make up a party of ladies 
and gentlemen and walk out. The Meadows are some broad flats 
overflown by the water, making an admirable skating-ground; and 
the scene on them on a pleasant winter afternoon, is one of the most 
lively I ever saw. 

The ice for a mile beyond is covered with a labyrinth of whirling, 
gayly-dressed groups ; there a man cutting the most artistic and 
mysterious figures of the science ; there two ladies skating off grace¬ 
fully together; here a lady and gentleman hand in hand, or a whole 
line together, moving across, and again through them all, rushing 
on at a most alarming speed, the sled-chairs with ladies, pushed on 
by servants or friends—all moving and whirling and dashing around 
among one another, and yet no one injured or getting a fall. Then 
on the bank, other groups again—men renting skates, women with 
coffee-tables and cakes, boys with fresh flowers from the conserva¬ 
tories, and crowds of hacks and private carriages waiting to take 
the skaters, and scattered about through them all, that omnipresent 
and most inquisitive individual—the Berlin policeman—grand in 
helmet, blue coat and sword. Add to all this, to complete the 
scene, a clear winter’s air; the rich light of the sun, far sunk in the 
south, falling over the groups, and just tinging with rose-color the 
white columns of smoke ; and for a back-ground, the delicate 



180 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


tracery and dark masses of the old trees against the cold gray 
eastern sky. 

There must be nearly a thousand people out, some days, from all 
classes, young and old, ladies and gentlemen, and the ladies in 
their prettiest dresses, much as if for a fashionable promenade. 

I have never seen a more graceful exercise for women, and 
the most here were well accomplished in the science. It 
has only been tried among the ladies of Berlin for a few years, 
since one of the Princesses set the fashion, though now it is 
quite the mode. The most surprising thing to an American was 
the number of elderly men joining in the sport—men of station— 
the Professor and students together, or the worn-out business 
man coming out to have one of the free sports of his youth over 
again. 

I know of nothing, in the habits of foreign nations, which struck 
me at first, as so entirely new, as this love for out-door sports. 
In England, I did not pass through a village, without finding the 
green cricket-ground; and, be it remembered, not with boys at play 
on it, but men—men often of rank and character. Later in 
the season, were the boat-races, where the whole population 
gathered; gentlemen of the highest rank presiding, and the noble¬ 
man and student tugging at the oar, as eagerly as the mechanic or 
waterman. 

In September, we were making our foot trip through the High¬ 
lands of Scotland, and we scarcely found an inn so remote, which 
was not crowded with gentlemen, shooting, riding, or pedestrian- 
izing through the mountains, and with the zest and eagerness of 
boys let out of school. 

On the Continent, with the exception of Hungary, there is not 
such a passion for exciting field-sports; but the same love for the 



OPEN AIR LIFE. 


187 


open air. In Paris, a pleasant day will fill the Champs Elysees 
with cheerful parties, sipping their coffee under the shade ; or watch¬ 
ing the thousand exhibitions going on in open assemblies. And in 
the Provinces, every man who can have a spot six feet by ten 
in the free air, uses it to sip his wine, or take his “potage” 
therein. 

In Germany, the country-houses seem to be made to live out of 
doors, and people everywhere take their meals, or receive their 
friends in balconies and arbors. Every city has its gardens and pro¬ 
menades, which are constantly full. There are open air games too, 
where old and young take part; and in summer, the studying 
glasses, or all who can get leisure, are off on pedestrian tours through 
the Harz, or Switzerland, or nearer home. 

There is throughout Europe, a rich animal love of open air move¬ 
ment, of plays and athletic sports, of which we Americans as 
a people, know little. A Frenchman’s nerves quicken in the sun¬ 
light, even as the organization of plants; and a German would be 
very old and decrepid, when he should no longer enjoy a real tum¬ 
bling frolic with his children. The Englishman, cold as he is in 
other directions, would lose his identity when his blood did not flow 
fresher at a bout of cricket, or a good match with the oar. We on 
the other hand are utterly indifferent to these things. We might 
pull at a boat-race, but it would be as men, not as boys; because 
we were determined the Yankee nation should never be beaten, not 
because we enjoyed it. We do not care for children’s sports. We 
have no time for them. There is a tremendous, earnest work to 
be done, and we cannot spare effort for play. It is unmanly to roll 
a ball in America. Our amusements are labors. An American 
travels with an intensity and restlessness, which would of itself ex- 



S8 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


haust a German; and our city enjoyments are the most wearying 
and absurd possible. 

We like being together well enough, but our gregarious tenden¬ 
cies are nearly always for some earnest object. We can crowd for 
a lecture or political meeting, but as to gathering in a coffee-garden 
or in a park, it would be childish (or vulgar). 

I have noticed here this contrast to the Germans, because a most 
important subject is bound with it—a subject which must more and 
more demand earnest attention from our scientific men—I mean, 
our National health. 

We are an unhealthy race. No one can doubt it, who sees the 
old races of Europe. Our faces are thin, complexions sallow; 
dyspepsia and consumption are universal in a land, which in all 
physical comforts, presents the greatest advantages for the preserva¬ 
tion of health. Life may be as long in the average, but it is much 
less enjoyed. An American is as capable of strong muscular effort, 
and is as enduring as a European; but he does not get half the 
'pleasure from his vigor. Indigestion and nervous diseases sour the 
life of half our people. The evil increases too; and the probability 
is, the health of the Nation is degenerating. These facts are noto¬ 
rious in Europe, and our sharp, worn American faces are known 
everywhere. There is much disease and bodily weakness among 
the poorer classes of the Old World ; but in classes, enjoying equal 
comforts, it will be found that the Americans are confessed I v inferior 
in robust health. The dyspepsia, which so curses our whole popu¬ 
lation, is comparatively unknown among the older nations. 

In accounting for this, too much weight, in my opinion, is laid to 
the effects of climate. I could not see in North Germany in the 
autumn and winter, or in Hungary in the summer, that the differ¬ 
ences in climate were very appreciable. There were the same 



MORE PLAY! 


189 


sudden changes, the same extremes of heat and cold, and an atmo¬ 
sphere quite as remarkable for dryness as our own. The great and 
sufficient cause will be found to be, in this very difference in respect 
to out-door exercise and amusement. 

We work too hard, and play too little. 

Our nervous and digestive systems cannot sustain such an intense 
action of firain, as the American life demands, without frequent 
pleasant muscular exercise. The people need out-door manly sports, 
and healthy amusements. Those wearing, formal city enjoyments, 
with late hours and unhealthy fare, and those most useless trips to 
crowded watering-places, must be dropped for something German- 
like—something cheering, healthful, boyish—or we shall be a nation 
of dyspeptics. 

Other causes for our sickliness, can be found in our general 
habits—our diet—our excessive greed for money—the little heed 
we give to quiet family enjoyments. And if in these respects, I 
shall be able to show how much vitally important to our future we 
have to learn from the Germans, I shall have written to good 
purpose. 

As a practical conclusion, I would say to every man, who would 
deserve well of his country, play ! play more—patronize, encourage 
play! 

Why should bowling-alleys and cricket-clubs be given up to 
“ fast men ? ” Why should rowing-matches and yacht-races, fencing 
bouts and boxing lessons, fishing and shooting, be any more the 
privilege of “ the world,” than the church ? Why should not re¬ 
spectable, moral, religious people go into any, or all of these as they 
fancy, and invigorate their bodies and cheer the mind ? Do not let us 
grow old and dyspeptic, because we are growing more religious. 



190 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


Let there be something of healthful boyhood in us always ! No 
sports, but what are pure, humane and moral in tone; but where 
there are such, let no notion of asceticism, or false dignity restrain 
us ! Of course each one will have his favorite amusement; what¬ 
ever it be, let him remember it is nearly as important for his health 
of mind as his regular work. For my own part, as a “ brother of 
the angle,” I most recommend the “ gentle art.” 

Those cheery mountain-walks, the clear dashing brooks, the air, 
the light, the easy occupation, which always absorbs just enough to 
let the full, almost unconscious enjoyment of scenery pour into the 
heart. It makes one a boy again to remember ! 


December, 1850. 

The concerts still continue, and are a great treat to us Americans. 
Every Friday afternoon, we have in the coffee-gardens out of the 
city, instrumental concerts, where Beethoven’s symphonies are given 
with a skill, which no band in America could equal. The entrance 
fee is six or eight cents , and each visitor is expected to order a cup 
of coffee, or mug of beer. There are ladies in the centre of the 
building usually, but how they bear that condensed atmosphere of 
tobacco-smoke is a mystery to me. Where I sit on the side, I could 
hardly see the orchestra for the thick clouds ; and though somewhat 
hardened to “ the weed ” myself, I had once or twice to cut a sym¬ 
phony in the midst; all enjoyment being out of the question, amid 
such a burning of bad tobacco. 

As a specimen of these concerts, I give a programme for an even¬ 
ing lately, in Liebig’s saloon. 




AMUSEMENTS. 


Ifil 


Overtures. 

Iphigenia, by Gluck. 

Midsummer Night’s Dream—Mendelssohn 

Don Juan—Mozart. 

Coriolan—Beethoven. 

Symphonies. 

G Major—Haydn. 

The Andante from C Major—Mozart. 

C Minor (5th)—Beethoven. 

Of the other concerts, the most celebrated are given by the Sing - 
Academie. This is an association founded by Fasch in 1789. They 
only hold some three or four concerts during the year, and usually 
sing Oratorios and Masses. This season they have given Haydn’s 
“ Creation” and a Mass by Cherubini, together with Handel’s 
“ Messiah” and “ Sampson,” and Mendelssohn’s “ St. Paul.” The 
admission fee is seventy-five cents and fifty cents ; when they sing 
in the Garrison Church, only twenty-five cents. There are beside 
two or three similar societies, but less important, which perform 
oratorios. The best orchestral music is from the Royal Orchestral 
Society, which gives a series of nine concerts. I copy as a specimen 
of their evening, a late programme. On this occasion only three 
symphonies: 

1 Symphony C Minor—Haydn. 

2. Symphony A Major—Mendelssohn. 

8. Symphony F Major, (8th)—Beethoven. 

More commonly there are two Symphonies-and two Overtures, 
as on January 16. 

1. Symphony C Minor—Gade. 

2. Overture to Fingal’s Cave—Mendelssohn. 




.92 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY 


3. Overture, Coriolan—Beethoven. 

4. Symphony Pastorale—Beethoven. 


The price of admission to these concerts is the same as at the 
other—seventy-five and fifty cents. They rank so high, that seats 
are taken by families year by year. The orchestra numbers from 
one hundred and sixty to one hundred and seventy members, of 
whom one half must be all the time occupied. The services 
required are performances in the theatre and opera, and private con¬ 
certs for the King. Every member must pass a severe examination 
before he is admitted; and with thousands of players, the great 
object of their ambition is to become a member of the Royal 
Orchestra. The salaries are small, but are increased, so as to sup¬ 
port the members when they are superannuated. 

The usual price for the chance concerts, corresponding to those 
we have at home, is seventy-five cents. For Jenny Lind’s, it was 
one dollar fifty, and seventy-five cents. 

. There are also Quartette and Quintette Soirees, given by the first 
artists in Berlin; similar to Eisfeldt’s in New York and those of 
the Mendelssohn in Boston. 

The rehearsal of the royal bands before the guard-house, is in 
itself a fine entertainment. From fifty to one hundred instruments 
are in play, and you hear music such as you can only hear at home 
in our best concerts. 

Of Church music, not much can be said. I have often listened 
with intense delight to the choir of men and boys in the Cathedral. 
Artists tell me, that there is no choir equal to it in the world—not 
even that of the Sistine Chapel. They sing the Psalms and Chants 
from Mendelssohn, Neithardt, and all the best composers. I 




BIRTH-DAY PARTY.” 


193 


heard, too, once, Mozart's Requiem , from a grand choir of operatic 
singers in the Catholic Church. 


December, 1850. 

A very pleasant “ birth-day party ” came off last night at Pas¬ 
tor -, one of the purest Pietisten, as they call the Evangelical 

orthodox. I went at about eight o’clock, and found quite a large 
company already assembled; and tea and rum being passed 

round. Pastor-received me in his usual cordial way, and I 

found a number of my acquaintances present. If I might be al¬ 
lowed to especially mention any, whom one meets in the Berlin cir¬ 
cles, and whose names are already widely spread in other lands, I 
would not omit the genial and eloquent Krummacher, a man so 
favorably known in America; Nitsch, the most scientific and pro¬ 
found of the Berlin preachers, and the successor, I believe, of Schleier- 
macher, Snetlage, the court-preacher, at whose house such pleasant 
companies of English meet; Lepsius, whom I had not the pleasure 
of knowing personally, famous for his researches in Egypt; and 
Curtius, the youthful Professor of Grecian Art in the University, a 
man who, I do not hesitate to say, will win the gratitude of Prussia, 
when the results of his free and earnest course of instruction with 
the young prince—the future king—shall appear. 

There were several rooms open this evening. In one there was 
music; in another were people playing chess, or looking over prints; 
and in another, the elder part o.f the company engaged in conversa¬ 
tion. All was easy and social, and very little of forced enjoyment ap¬ 
peared. At half-past nine or ten began the most social part of the 
evening around the supper table, with the sparkling wit and 
lively conversation for which the Berliners are so famous. I was 
struck that evening, as I have often been in these supper-parties, by 
9 






194 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


the superiority of the Europeans over us Americans in the art of 
conversation. We are better orators, but I suspect seldom so good 
conversationists. Is it that as a nation we are too earnest for “ small 
talk?” 

Another peculiarity in most of German society which would at 
once attract an American’s attention, is the much less prominent place 
woman takes. It is very seldom, you hear a lady taking any great 
share in table conversation. There are very few subjects on which 
her opinion or her feelings seem to be listened to with much atten¬ 
tion. It is quite evident she has a very different position from what 
is given her in American life. And I may add, I think without 
presumption, that it is seldom in completeness of education, she can 
claim the same position with the ladies of our educated classes at 
home. There is something too, perhaps, in the exceeding strictness 
of the rules of society here with regard to the intercourse of ladies 
and gentlemen, which may have checked that lively, intellectual 
converse, which, after all, forms often one of the best means of 
education. 

But to come back to our supper-table. The Berliners are not at 
all gross eaters, but they hold firmly, at least in practice, to the good 
old German idea—of good eating being the aid of kindly social 
feelings. Through all the old world much more of the best social 
life is over the table than with us in the new. Our first course 
here was fish, the Berlin pike, a fish resembling our pike, but coarser 
and softer. The salmon from the Elbe too, or the carp from the Spree, 
are much eaten in this way at supper. This was followed by roast 
meat, with preserves or pickled fruit. Mutton is the common meat 
for this, sometimes venison or turkey. Then came the pudding or 
the confectionery. We had, as an imitation of the English, a gen¬ 
uine “ plum pudding,” greatly to the glee of the children. Accord- 



A TOAST. 


195 


ing to the popular idea it can only have the true English flavor by 
heating it in burning alcohol; so that there was a long line of blaz¬ 
ing plates down the table, and a great deal of sport for the children, 
even if no better pudding. The last course, according to the 
universal custom, was black bread and cheese. 

Through every course light wines were passed around, either Bor¬ 
deaux or the sour Rhenish. 

Towards the close, one of the Pastor’s friends rose, rapped on the 
table for silence, and bade the company fill up for a birth-day 
“health.” Every glass was filled, and the speaker commenced. 
He mentioned the long and close friendship which had existed be¬ 
tween him and their revered host; described with a comical touch 
their early difficulties in the ministry; spoke in a tone which called 
the tears to many an eye of the dear hearts who had been with 
them in the Morning, and were gone now as they drew towards the 
Evening, of the struggles his friend had had with the infidelity and 
indifference of the nation, and the abundant success which had been 
granted him. “ God too had dealt mercifully with his family,” he 
said, and she was with him still who had so sustained him in his 
starting. He was before a company of friends, and he could not 
avoid speaking with thankfulness of the light which she had thrown 
around the pathway of them all—that abounding cheerfulness, that 
patience,.that entire forgetfulness of selfish pleasure! He would 
propose “ the health and long life of their two esteemed friends, the 
Pastor and his wife ! ” 

It was drank with many a Hock! After this followed several 
speeches, all full of that genial home-tone; and about half-past 
eleven, we broke up. The evening had been a delightful one; and 
there was much to interest me as I recalled the conversation. 

Political subjects do not form a great topic just at present for 



SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


x96 


Berlin table-talk. Every man of whatever party is so thoroughly 
dissatisfied with the present state of political affairs, and so hopeless 
of the future, that it seems as if any mention of the subject was 
carefully avoided, and they all took refuge in their wit and their 
literature to escape the thoughts of it. 

As I see the quick joke pass around and hear especially those keen 
stories which the Berliners so delight to tell, against the heavy, 
“ material” English, it often seems to me like the wit of the Greeks 
as their degradation was coming on, against the sturdy Romans ; the 
wit of an intellectual race which is losing its power to act. 

I have spoken before of the unbelief or indifference on religious 
matters which meets one everywhere in German life. There was 
little of it apparent in such a company as met at my friends; still, 
in general, it is a trait of Berlin society. 

The city seems still somewhat to deserve its old name, “ The 
Voltairian Berlin though one must confess there is nothing of 
the maliciousness of Voltaire in its unbelief. And yet from 
this, there is much less danger to one mingling with the Germans 
than would be supposed. If I might be allowed to speak of my 
own experience, I would say, and with deep gratitude, that my faith 
has only been strengthened by my experience of the want of faith 
among the Germans. I feel this the more gratefully, for after all, 
when the best and noblest spirits around one, doubt, it is seldom 
that even the strongest belief can remain altogether unshaken. So 
far as I can judge, too, the faith is not in this case from that home¬ 
sick love which every man under almost any religion, feels for the 
teachings of his childhood in a strange land. But I cannot help 
seeing that the Germans are not at all happy under the change, 
that there is a dissatisfaction, a sense of want in their present condi¬ 
tion, which speaks most painfully of the injury they have done their 



A LETTER, 


197 


own natures. And besides, the more I see of them and of men 
generally, the more I am convinced that even in the 'practical emer¬ 
gencies of life, no height of moral principle, no nobleness of 
character, can in any way take the place of the religious Principle; 
that there is a certain “ ground-trait,” a certain reliableness even in 
every-day difficulties in the religious character, which no mere 
moral culture can ever give, and which is, to my mind, one of the 
best proofs of its origin. 

It will make my impressions of German Social Life more fresh 
to others, to give an extract from a private letter written about this 
time. 

“ My Dear J.— # * * I want to tell you about my friends. I 

have spoken often of Mr. T-. He is a retired merchant, living 

in a very pleasant house; a warm-hearted, social, sensible man. 
* * * Fraulein F., his daughter, who keeps house for him, has a 

kind of suffering, pressed-down look, which wears off as she becomes 
interested in the conversation, and which is owing, probably, to a 
great sorrow a few years ago—the death of her betrothed. She 
is full of kindness, with the shape of head and marked features, 
which indicate strong feelings. She is simple, heartfelt, and self- 
sacrificing, and her kind manners give one the impression, at first, 
she is very amiable and nothing else; but after a while, you see 
under this, that there’s a strong understanding and * very vigorous 
character. Her mind is not the most highly cultivated, but in all 
this family, there is such a taste for Art, that it in some degree has 
made up for this, and she has an excellent practical sense. Her 
impulses are kind and noble—and she will grow. * * * I will 

not describe her sister. She might have been a genius in other 




198 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


training—as it is, she is the simplest—sometimes most deep-see¬ 
ing, unpracticalest, phantasirendste Frdulein (most phantasizing 
young lady) I know—yet again not highly cultivated, except by 
her own dreams. There is one son at home—a merchant—been in 
Southern India some years—rather witty and boylike. Like all the 
family he draws well. The other children are married, and all live 
close by in the same block. One is an artist; a deep-feeling, 
under-thinking, somewhat sceptical man, with decided genius. 
# # # I v i s it here every day—sometimes to Morgencaffee 

(morning coffee)—generally to Fruhstiick (breakfast) at eleven; 
chat with the ladies; go down with the father and visit his friends; 

dine with them, when I am not engaged out; then after dinner 

. 'do. 

walk with the ladies, and in evening call on others, or meet them 
again at half-past eight o’clock to supper. The meals are the most 
pleasant and social affairs I ever saw. 

“I am inclined to believe, dear J-■, and don’t laugh!—that 

the true view of human life, would bring in eating as an important 
element. Not eating as a mere means of animal pleasure, but— 
first as the embrace and the kiss are at once the expressions and the 
aid of affection—so eating as an expression of joy and an aid of 
sociality. We might wish to have sociality and the higher inter¬ 
course freed entirely from the bodily influence, and purely spiritual. 
But they never are; and for some wise reason, there is no lofty 
emotion which is entirely separate from bodily states. 

“ I am disposed—not like Jane Eyre and perhaps Emerson—to be¬ 
lieve that the true course, is to sanctify eating. Not to look down 
upon it—but to make it a means of the higher influences. This 
seems to me the idea of the Bible. As was natural in an early age, 
eating in the Old Testament was always the expression of happi¬ 
ness and sociality. In the New, is it not remarkable, how much 



EATING. 


199 


Christ is spoken of at meals ? His noblest thoughts, his freest out¬ 
pourings of real feeling are at the table, where good cheer has been. 
His best speeches and teachings are often at dinner. The peculiar 
rites—yes, the only rite—which he transmits, is the changing of the 
convivial meal into a remembrance of Him. His appearance after 
the crucifixion is at the breakfast table. And His last appearance 
on earth, is at a dinner in the open air. Is not this the idea of the 
Grace ? 

“ As Charles Lamb said , i He could not see why he should thank 
God more for a dinner, than for a new pair of boots!’ I have felt 
this so, that I have asked God ‘ to bless us in this, even the smallest 
action of our lives!’ 

“ But is not the real idea, that the meal is one of the best aids of 
sociality and best expressions of happiness; and that in that time 
of friendly, pleasant intercourse, we especially want the aid of God 
and His company, in making it all noble and good ? 

“ Is not every meal a Lord’s supper—and should not every Lord’s 
supper be a social meal ? 

“ Is not this the healthy, natural idea of eating—of a man, who 
had not been a glutton and was now reacting —with good appetite 
and social affections ? I fear this sounds irreverent in some parts, 
but it should not. Of course, you will say it is ‘ dangerous,’ and 
that if Appetite and Duty were in the same path, men would go 
with a rush. I do not mean to say, you know, that I hold precisely 
this—but something like it—at any rate, you can think of it. Don’t 
think that my lips are smacking now with the remembrance of my 
German dinners ! If I could have a tip-top Senator Meyer German 
dinner, with eighteen courses and wines, all by myself, I should not 
prefer it to my bouillon and ganseklein (soup and roast goose) for 



200 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY 


seven and a half cents—but give me a company or family-dinner, 
'where thought and kind feeling and language are waked up by the 
good cheer, if it be only tea, and bread and butter, and I confess T 
do like it far better.” 



CHAPTEK XXI. 


THE GERMAN CATHOLICS. 

December, 1860. 

Among my friends here, are a family, to whom I have become 
especially attached, who are followers of Ronge (pronounced, Rong- 
gay), or “ German Catholics,” as they are called. I have been at¬ 
tracted to them by their genial humanity, and their free, democratic 
principles ; and through them have become acquainted with several 
of their persuasion. 

I accompanied them last Sunday, to hear their preacher, Mr. 
Brauner, who was formerly a Catholic priest. A small, meagre 
man, who spoke with a fire and enthusiasm, you would not expect 
from his appearance. 

His sermon was on “ Love,” showing the progress of love for the 
individual, to the wider and more unselfish love for mankind; 
touching sadly on the evils now, which are cursing Germany, but 
full of confident hope that a better Future was dawning on hu¬ 
manity, when Love should govern the relations of rulers to subjects, 
and state to state, as well as those of man to man. The heaven- 
appealing oppressions in Hesse were denounced in a tone, which I 
have heard yet from no pulpit in Prussia; and the supineness and 
time-serving disposition of the Protestant clergy met with a stern 
rebuke. 


9 


202 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANS 


“Let us have courage,” was the conclusion. “Time will change 
it all! We are going hence, soon to be absorbed into the world- 
spirit ( Welt-geist ); our feeble and selfish love to be merged into 
His eternal and ineffable Love; and the times and events all tend 
thither!” 

The whole—church and preacher—struck me as in consistency 
with this Rouge movement—the union of the old and the new, of 
the venerable Past with the reforming Present—chanting of litur¬ 
gies, with a popular, transcendental sermon ; antique panel-pictures 
in carved oak, set into modern brick walls; and dear old stiff paint¬ 
ings of martyrs with gilt images of saints, lighted by nineteenth 
century chandeliers; and to crown it all, a man who had been a 
Catholic priest, declaiming over one of the carved pulpits of the 
middle ages, on unlimited democracy, and denouncing tyranny 
as boldly as an American stump orator. It is to be hoped, the 
analogy goes no farther, for the church had all the inconveniences, 
with none of the associations, of the old buildings; it was very 
damp without being antique. 

In walking home with my friends, I told one of them—Madame 

-, a very spirituelle and benevolent lady—how much I had liked 

the sermon in the main; that it seemed to me freer and bolder than 
any I had heard; but that some allusions towards the close, were 
hardly plain to me. “ Do you all believe,” said I, “ that your souls 
are absorbed into God, or are you only speaking figuratively ?” 

“ We do,” said she,"“and the most of our sect, though it is not 
an article of our creed.” 

“ But, that our souls have no individual existence at all after 
death ?” I inquired. 

“ They live in God,” she answered, “ in so far as they are pure 




A “RONGIST” 


203 


and good. The evil in them perishes. God and they will be 
one!” 

“ And do none of you expect to meet those you love, again ?” 
said I. “ Have you no hope of living on and working for others’ 
happiness ? Is your Ich (I) to disappear altogether and forever ? 
Can you bear to think that this half-life is all ?” 

“We can bear to think what God has appointed us,” she an¬ 
swered. “We believe that our friends and ourselves will be hap¬ 
pier, or lather better, by complete union with Him ! We do not 
ask for a reunion with them, but for something higher—a reunion 
with God!” 

“ But can you preach this to men when they are in suffering and 
sorrow ? Can you tell them that there is no remedy for this— 
no other life, where there is peace and rest again ? Are they to die 
with no hope beyond ? Is this most incomplete, mysterious exist¬ 
ence to be all \ How are you ever to place motives in the Future, 
Before the sinful, if there is no Hereafter ? ” 

“ That is it! ” said she. “ Precisely for that reason, we believe God 
takes away a future life, except as it is in Himself. You Protestants 
have frightened men into goodness, or bought them with promises. 
We want a holiness which does not care for a Future, which rests 
in God alone. We do not believe in the goodness that fears Hell, 
or looks forward to Heaven. Our idea of holiness is that Love which 
embraces all, without thought of anything but the happiness of those 
who need happiness. Not selfishness, not looking to reward or 
praise, but the Love of Truth because it is truth, even if there were 
no God; the purpose to sacrifice happiness, pleasure, everything for 
those who are suffering and helpless and guilty.” 

“ We believe, Herr B., that just as Protestantism with its spirit¬ 
ual life has supplanted Romanism, so this belief of ours will grad- 



204 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


ually cover the world. It may need time, but it is sure; it has 
God’s Spirit with it! ” 

I will not detail the conversation farther. I was impressed with 
the beauty and purity of their ideas, and their enthusiasm for them, 
though it could not but be sad to me, believing that these theories 
without their beautiful accompaniments would gradually work among 
the masses here, and produce, as they have done so often before, 
universal skepticism and irreligion. I inquired after we reached 
the house, whether all their preachers were equally bold on politi¬ 
cal subjects. “ Yes,” said they; “ we want men who are not afraid 
to speak of rulers as well as ruled, and our ranks are crowded with 
those from the Protestant churches, who cannot believe that system 
true ; they say that no pure faith could support clergymen, so con¬ 
servative and truckling to authorities, ( Obrigkeiten ) as these in 
Prussia.” 

I must here, though not denying the errors of this sect of German 
Catholics, express my hearty admiration for the tone of their preachers 
on public matters. Theirs are the only pulpits where a man dares 
gets up and speak a word of sympathy for the immense masses of 
crushed and oppressed men in Germany ; the only place where one 
hears of the rights of the subject, as well as of the “ respect for au¬ 
thorities,” and where the idea is sometimes broached, that one of 
the results of Christian Love is to be Freedom for man. 

I asked my friends, whether they had experienced no annoyance 
from belonging to such a heretical sect. “We have,” they said, 
“ the Government is bitterly opposed to us. We are not even le¬ 
gally recognized yet; and our children may lose the right of citizen¬ 
ship possibly, from not being confirmed by an orthodox pastor.” 

I saw much afterwards of these persons, and of various members 
of the sect, and, I must confess, that in practical benevolence, in a 



ORIGIN OF THE SECT. 


205 


genial humanity, and in all the evidences of a sincere love of 
God, they seem to me quite equal to any of the more orthodox 
denominations. 

The German Catholics are to occupy no unimportant place in the 
political development of Germany, and a brief account here of their 
progress and principles n\ay be of interest. 

Probably few of my readers will forget the thrill of surprise and 
hopeful feeling which passed through the American people when, a 
few years ago, the news of a bold movement in the heart of 
the Romanist Church of Germany, and of the formation of the 
new sect of the “ German Catholics,” came over to us. Not many, 
probably, know the singularly different direction the whole move¬ 
ment has taken since that time. 

It will be remembered that after the Congress of 1815, the 
general position of Roman Catholicism in Germany became, from the 
re-action of the French Revolution, as well as the measures of the 
Congress and various other causes, much strengthened. Footholds 
were soon gained even in the Protestant States, and rights were 
publicly granted to the Pope and his ministers in Hanover, Bavaria 
and Prussia, such as before they had not even ventured to claim. 
Encouraged by this success, further attempts were made, and the 
marriage of Protestants with Catholics was attacked with a vigor 
and lordly authority which might have belonged to the proudest 
days of the Roman Church. These last efforts struck at the very 
heart of society, and threatened to disturb the peace of thousands 
of families through all Germany. In Silesia and East Prussia, espe¬ 
cially, the excitement over them was intense, and even the govern¬ 
ment of Prussia entered into a controversy on the matter. At 
length, as a climax to these efforts, a grand blow was struck in the 
provinces of Rhenish Prussia. There, on the great highway of 



206 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


nations, in these matter-of-fact, unbelieving days, a leading Arch 
bishop of the Church of Rome had the presumption, and not only 
the presumption, but the success, to collect more than half a million 
of men from all parts of Germany, at immense expense and suffer 
ing, to worship an old coat , which he affirmed to be the coat of 
Jesus, and to induce them to give their trouble and money as an 
offering to it! One can hardly understand it; and if it were not 
for the most convincing records, we should say at once it was one 
of the fictions of the enemies of the Church of Rome. Yet such 
was the fact, and a fact dating only seven years back ! This was 
the last, however, of these attempts to bring back the middle ages. 
Amid the lull of astonishment and indignant feeling through all 
Germany, at such a daring assault on human Reason on so grand a 
scale, there came forth from an obscure priest in Upper Silesia, a 
letter—a letter whose thrilling effects through the German nations 
we cannot understand, without appreciating the preparation of the 
people for it, caused by these various movements of the Romanist 
Church—the Laurahiitte Letter of Ronge. “ For a long time,” 
it begins, “ like a fable, like a tale, has it rung in our ears, that the 
Bishop Arnold of Triers, has exhibited for worship and religious 
reverence, a piece of clothing called the coat of Christ. Ye have 
heard it, Christians of the nineteenth century! Ye know it, Ger¬ 
man men! Ye know it, teachers of the people and teachers of 
religion ! It is no fable and tale—it is reality and truth!” Then, 
after a vivid exposure of the idolatry, as well as the injury to the 
poor people, in expenses which they could little afford, from the 
exhibition, he says: “ Bishop Arnold of Triers, I turn myself then 
to you, and in virtue of my office and calling as priest, as a teacher 
of the German people, and in the name of Christianity and the 
German nation, I call upon you to put an end to this unchristian 



RONGE’S LETTER. 207 

exhibition of the holy coat, to withdraw the article from public no¬ 
tice, and to make the scandal no greater than it is ! For do you not 
know—as Bishop you should know—that the Founder of the Chris¬ 
tian religion left to his disciples and followers, not his coat but his 
Spirit? His coat, Bishop of Arnold of Triers, belongs to his 
executioners /” Without following the letter through farther, we 
would only say, it is a most impassioned, spirited appeal against the 
imposture, and shows a mind burning with intense hatred of oppres¬ 
sion in all forms. 

It met at once with a response through thousands of hearts. 
Within twenty days one congregation had separated itself from the 
Catholic Church, at Schneidemuhl, and their priest was to be heard 
celebrating the mass in the German language. In a little longer 
time, Ronge himself was summoned to assist in the formation of a 
large and influential church in Breslau, composed altogether of 
those who had been Catholics, and based on the freest Protestant 
principles; while the idea spread itself with more and more power 
that a new and glorious Church was to be formed, freed from the 
defects of the Romanist Church, and yet so independent of the 
Protestant as to attract those from the Romanist body, who would 
otherwise find many prejudices in their way. Such was the first 
influence of the “ Laurahutte Letter.” 

To Ronge himself this does not appear to have been any sudden 
movement. According to his own account, and what other evi¬ 
dence I can get access to, he had been now for four years deeply 
agitated with indignation at these mummeries of the Church which 
he had once so filially trusted, and with doubts of the whole sound¬ 
ness of its system. In 1839, with hopes of a quiet, useful calling, 
as religious teacher, he had entered a seminary for the education of 
priests. He was not there long, without finding his confidehce in 



208 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY". 


the general spirit of the church shaken ; and from that time till he 
entered on his office as priest in Grottkau, in 1841, he appears to 
have become more and more conscious of the unmanning, de¬ 
basing influence of the principles in vogue among his brother 
priests. 

In entering on the sacred office, he tells us he was determined 
that for his part he should be, in the true sense of the word, a 
Teacher of the people , and that without fear or hypocrisy, he would 
speak, what he thought the truth. Under such a determination, he 
naturally soon brought himself into trouble. And during the next 
three years, at various times he found himself accused of all kinds 
of heresies—of wearing his robes too short and his hair too long, 
of teaching German history in the children’s schools, of deviating 
too much from the catechism in his instructions, of talking too 
much of faith and too little of works, and divers other misdeeds of 
the kind, until at length a letter of his, addressed to the Cathedral- 
Chapter at Breslau, exposing various corruptions and superstitions 
in their midst, caused his suspension from his office. During 
this suspension, while at Laurahutte , he wrote his celebrated “ Let¬ 
ter.” 

In regard to the subsequent career of Bonge not much can be 
said. He appears to have assisted for a while in the formation of 
the new churches among the German Catholics, and to have given 
his impassioned, spirited style of writing, heartily to the aid of the 
new movement. Men hailed him for a time as a second Luther. 
But gradually, whether from the fact that in cultivation and gene¬ 
ral learning he did not correspond to the place he was taking; or 
because so long in a cloistered life, he had lost his practical power 
over men, his influence became less and less. Then occurred some 
events in his private life, in respect to which there are very different 



RONGE’S CHARACTER. 


209 


opinions. In fact in regard to these as well as the general character 
of the man, it is very difficult to get any definite information. 

The orthodox and conservative parties detest him, the Catholics 
hate him, and the Freien-Gemeinden seem equally strong on the 
other side. The fact, at least, is certain that he married ano¬ 
ther man’s wife, though it is claimed she had been first legally di¬ 
vorced. Soon after this, a violent letter appeared from him against 
the King of Prussia, and in order to escape trial and the imprison¬ 
ment which was threatened, he fled to England, where he is probably 
living at the present time. 

Whatever the man may have become afterward, every appear¬ 
ance shows him to have been honest and sincere in his first move¬ 
ment against the Roman Church. It was no easy thing for a quiet 
recluse to leave his calm pursuits, his companions, his means of sup¬ 
port, and, without any knowledge of the results, to step out boldly 
in the world and strike such a blow as that against the corruptions 
of the Old Church. It was a bold, manly stroke, and for that let 
us give him honor. 

But to our account again of the Freien-Gemeinden, or German 
Catholics. The first important church, as I have said before, was 
formed at Breslau, and under the freest Protestant and Congrega¬ 
tional principles. The supremacy of the Pope, forced celibacy, 
“ confession,” were rejected, together with the practices of praying 
to saints and worshiping relics. The Scripture was to be opened 
to all, the church services to be performed in the German language, 
and entire freedom of conscience and belief to be secured to each 
man. Every Gemeinde or “ congregation ” was to be entirely inde¬ 
pendent, and to have the power of choosing its own pastor; and if 
synods met, they were to be endowed with no power other than 
advisatory. 



SOCIAL LIFE \N GERMANY. 


210 


This was followed by the founding of numerous other churches 
through Germany on a similar basis, and in 1845 the first Synod 
of the new sect assembled in Leipsic. The principles declared by 
this Synod were similar to those stated above, except that after 
great discussion, a new form of creed was established, very much the 
same with the Apostles’ Creed, with the exception that nothing is 
said of “ Christ being the Son of God,” or of his “ dying for our 
sins.”* And now began to appear the great direction of the sect. 
It was not so much in maintaining of the doctrine of faith as opposed 
to works, nor in the opposition to the Roman Church, that the 
movement found its life. It w r as a struggle for perfectly untram - 
meled belief. All the freest, most ultra thinkers through Germany 

* * We give an abstract of some of the principles of the Creed, set forth by 

this assembly at Leipsic. 

(11) “ The foundation of the Christian Faith shall be singly and alone the 
Holy Scriptures , whose interpretation and exposition is given entirely to the 
Reason, penetrated and moved by the Christian Idea.” 

For Creed they give among the articles, (12) “ I believe on God the Fa¬ 
ther, who created by his omnipotent Word, the world, and who governs it 
in wisdom, justice and love. I believe on Jesus Christ, our Holy One. I 
believe on the Holy Spirit; a holy, universal Christian Church; the forgive¬ 
ness of sins, and life everlasting. Amen.” 

(9) “We allow full freedom of conscience, free investigation and inter¬ 
pretation of the Holy Scriptures, limited by no external authority; we ab¬ 
hor all force, hypocrisy and all lies, and we find in the difference of the 
interpretation of our articles of Faith, no ground for separation or condem¬ 
nation.” 

(10) “We recognize only two Sacraments—Baptism and the Lord’s Sup¬ 
per.” 

Marriage in the 13th is declared a civil contract, and (14) “We believe 
and confess, that it is the first duty of the Christian to exercise his Faith in 
works of Christian Love-” 



THE RESULTS. 


911 


joined it—all those most filled with enthusiasm and not always 
most judicious in their efforts for the progress of freedom and liberal 
ideas among men. Its basis soon appeared not so much a religious 
one as simply the desire, for freedom * The wildest forms of reli¬ 
gious belief started up in the sect. The personality of God was de¬ 
nied and the existence of a future life. Men were mere emanations 
of the great Weltgeist, (World-spirit.) to return and be absorbed 
in Him at death. The divine authority of the Scriptures was 
only a dogma of Jewish tradition, and any other character to Christ 
than that of a pure and benevolent philosopher could never be main¬ 
tained ; and there arose a wing of the party, represented by Wisli- 
cenus, who could not rank otherwise than as infidels and atheists. 
The sect naturally attracted the attention of government, and it was 
supposed most truly to be a nursery of democratic ideas and dan¬ 
gerous political sentiments. In Vienna, where the Gemeinden had 
numbered some 10,000, the whole society, in the reaction of’49, 
was utterly suppressed. In Prussia they have had many difficulties, 
but have succeeded in keeping their foothold. By the Constitution 
of this year, all religious societies are allowed their legal place in the 
State ; but it remains a question whether this is a religious society 
or a corporation—an important question for the Gemeinde; for if 
the pastor is not a legal pastor, no child baptized by him can have 

* Wagner in his Report to the Assembly of German Catholics at Halber- 
stadt 1849, thus defines their principles of Union. 

(1) “A Protest against the Old Church, with all its tendencies, traditions 
and doctrines, with its power and its claims, and (2) the unlimited struggling 
after knowledge and perfection in the spiritual ground, and after the uncon¬ 
ditional independence of each congregation.” 

Uhlich defines their principle, as ‘‘The freedom of the human mind.” 
Herrendorfer , as an assertion that “ all knowledge comes from the Thought 
of man; a Divine Revelation, there is not.” 




212 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


a citizen’s rights—can hold property, or peddle goods, or shoot an 
enemy of Prussia, legally ! As I said before, their practical benev¬ 
olence and their popular sympathies, I heartily respect. There are 
many individuals too among them whose views are not very dis¬ 
similar from our own. But, as a whole, one can find little religious 
character in the sect. The wildest, vaguest dreams of German phi¬ 
losophy appear to constitute their religious belief, and to be the ob¬ 
ject of their faith. In practical sympathies they are eminently 
Christian. It is not, however, as a religious party that the existence 
of the German Catholics is important under any aspect. In that 
character the sect will soon die out. But it is as a party cherishing 
the freest principles, as a combination where sympathies may be 
nursed and plans formed, affecting the political future of Germany, 
that it is worthy of attentive consideration;—and it is as such, that 
I shall watch with deep interest its future operations 



CHAPTER XXH. 


POLITICS. 


December, 1860. 

I have just been conversing with Mr.-, one of the leaders 

of the opposition party, and a gentleman very favorably known in 
the political circles of Berlin. He has resided some time in Ame¬ 
rica, and his acquaintance with our system of government, and with 
the Constitutional forms in England, give him a great advantage in 
the debates of the “ Chambers.” I observe that he is frequently 
called upon in doubtful points of order or legislation. He tells me 
that he has great hope through all these present difficulties. He 
thinks the nation are desirous of supporting a Constitutional Govern¬ 
ment, and that they only at present need experience. The great 
drawback, he and every patriot find in their present system, is in 
the number of office-holders, through each branch of the Legislature. 
He has no fear, however, that this will not be remedied, and be¬ 
lieves in a few years that this Monarchy will take the position of a 
thorough Constitutional Monarchy. 

Still there is quite enough in the present condition of Prussia, to 
make any reflecting man serious about its future. A stormy session 
of the “ Chambers” has just been ended by the king’s summarily 
adjourning them till the middle of January. It was a short ses¬ 
sion, but it was long enough to show what the temper of the coun- 


214 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


try is, towards the ministry; or, in other words, towards the policy 
of the king. Bolder words have not been spoken in any represen¬ 
tative Assembly of Europe, than were by certain members of these 
Prussian Kammer. They have denounced this whiffling, vacillating 
policy, which is endangering the honor and the position of Prussia, 
as an independent monarchy. They have exposed the folly of a 
government which began with such mighty preparations, and con¬ 
tented itself with such mean results. They remind the ministry, that 
in the beginning their claims upon Austria were many, and such as 
might rouse the whole nation to support them ; that they then 
demanded that no troops of the Bundestag should settle the inter¬ 
nal affairs of Hesse—a country in which, as belonging to the later 
German Union, Prussia and her allies alone had the right to inter¬ 
fere ; that any such attempt must be at once desisted from, as being an 
insult to Prussia and a separation of the two parts of her monarchy 
by a foreign force; that a new Union should be formed, where 
something beside Austria and Absolutism should have a voice; 
that Schleswig-Holstein should be left to maintain her own “ good 
right,” or that the dispute should be so settled that the Duchies 
could form a part of the great German Union. These were posi¬ 
tions which the Prussian people could stand by. They were claims, 
to urge which, 200,000 men had left their business and their homes, 
at the call of government, with an alacrity unknown in the history 
of military recruiting. 

But now, after all this brave opening, what was the close ? A 
whole people had been aroused to arms ; the most magnificent pre¬ 
parations known in modern warfare had been made; and what, 
according to the confession of the ministry themselves, had they 
gained, or supposed they had gained ? Simply and principally the 
right fo • Prussia to occupy the military roads through Hesse —a 



VINCKE’S SPEECH 


215 


right which had never been decidedly questioned, and which was 
not even mentioned in the early period of the dispute; and 
secondly, the opportunity of holding some “ Conferences,” between 
the various powers of Germany. At this period of the session of 
the Chambers, the results of the agreement entered into at Olmiitz, 
between the Austrian and Prussian Governments, were not known ; 
except as they could be gathered from the speeches of the minis¬ 
ters ; but those two claims mentioned above, were supposed to be 
all which the Prussian diplomatists had succeeded in establishing. 
The issue shows that hardly even those were maintained. 

The most spirited speech of the session was made by Herr Von 
Vincke —a speech which in skillful management of arguments, and 
in ready, lively oratory, has very few superiors in parliamentary 
orations. It was the great “ Constitution” speech, and told with 
wonderful success. A more complete, thorough expose of this 
changing policy of the ministry could not have been made. Man- 
teuffel , the Minister, tried to reply, but it was manifest he had a 
bad cause to plead, and that the sympathies of the Assembly were 
decidedly with the “ Left”—the opposition—and he had finally to 
acknowledge he would much rather be where “ Spitz-Kugelri ” 
(pointed bullets) than where “ Spitz-JReden ” (pointed words) were 
flying. In Yon Vincke’s speech, and in all the others, the King’s 
name is hardly mentioned ; or, if he is spoken of, it is done in the 
most respectful manner. Still the tendency of it all, was evidently 
to weaken, in the most dangerous manner, the royal authority. 
The king was known to be at the bottom of all these inconsistencies 
and changes-; and every sarcasm and every bold attack was really 
a blow at him. When one of the orators closed a vivid statement 
of this fickle, dishonoring policy, with the words “ Away with the 
ministry !” it must have been felt by very many, that these strong 



/ 


*16 SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


words were equally true against the head of the ministry, and that, 
if the servants disgraced Prussia, the master was at least equally 
gailty. 

Without doubt, the great motive of this attack on the ministry is 
not a desire for any constitutional improvements. The mass of the 
delegates have very little conception what a genuine constitutional 
government is, and just now their ideas are quite in another direction. 
It is the Prussian pride that is injured by this assumption of an 
authority in Cassel, which Prussia had claimed alone. That the 
Bavarian—the stupid, heavy-headed, beer-loving Bavarian—should 
be giving the law to one of Prussia’s allies, in utter contempt of her 
threats ! This is what galls so the national pride.* That the great 
antagonist of Prussia—the rival in power, and the representative of 
a different religion and different politics—should be usurping a 
right which Prussia had claimed and had not been able to main¬ 
tain ! It is this, much more than the questions of freedom involved 
in the contest, which has aroused so thoroughly the popular mind. 
Still, all the best and noblest spirits, undoubtedly always under the 
success of Prussia, see the success of the great principles of freedom 
which she represents in Germany. They regard any concession as 
a concession to that immense absolute Power at the East, whose 
influence now is so visibly seen in the affairs of Germany. And the 
humbling of their country is the humbling of the last defence of 
constitutional liberty in this part of Europe. As one of the Dele¬ 
gates said, in the late session, “ the Prussian pride rested on an 
unstained, an honorable history; but what would become of 
national honor, if an ally in the time of its trouble, in an attempt 
so reasonable and so constitutional to restore its rights, were left to be 
crushed by a foreign power ?” And, whatever may be true of the 
great body of the members, I have certainly been struck by the 



TYRANNY! 


217 


tone prevailing through the speeches of the leaders of the Opposi¬ 
tion—a tone of recognition, all the while, that the great idea of this 
struggle is, that it is a constitutional struggle. The great men, 
who, throughout Prussia, through the press and in the chambers 
have been dealing such heavy blows against the ministry, undoubt¬ 
edly believe, that they strike in the cause of constitutional freedom. 
The multitude, however, want War —war against their overbearing 
enemies, and they are indignant that the Ministry have so disap¬ 
pointed them. 

In the mean time, everything seems to go on gloomily enough for 
the Constitutional party. Right under the very eyes of the Repre¬ 
sentative Assembly, with the law fresh on their statute books for 
the liberty of the press, one of the most prominent editors of Ber¬ 
lin is banished from the city, without an hour’s notice, or the form 
of a trial. Nothing has happened for a long time, that shows bet¬ 
ter how few Constitutional rights they have in Prussia. This man 
was not an agitator, did not belong to a party, where even a re¬ 
proach of lawlessness could be fastened. His paper—the “ Consti- 
tutionelle Zeitung ”—is one of the ablest and most respectable 
journals issued in Germany. It appears, after attacking for a long 
time, in the most able manner, the policy of the ministry, he at 
length wrote an article against the king; hinting particularly, that 
the king was playing into the hands of Russia,—and either in that 
article or one soon after, comparing his course to that of one of the 
Stuarts, and warning him of a similar end to his family. This was 
not done as plainly as I have put it here; still it was very bold, 
and there was something undoubtedly in the last comparison, which 
was peculiarly offensive. No one can have studied the character of 
the present King of Prussia, without being struck by its great re¬ 
semblance in many points, to that of James II of England, and in 
10 



218 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


others, to traits which that ill-fated family ever displayed. The 
same lofty ideas of kingly prerogative ; the same remarkable culti¬ 
vation as an individual, with James II, and the same inefficiency as 
king. All the fickleness, all the double-dealing, and all the tyranny 
which ever characterized the worst of that house; and which, with 
him, as with them probably, is not so much the result of a bad 
heart, as of a weak head. 

It was this, most probably, which gave the peculiar point to Dr. 
Heym’s attack. The king had the opportunity to summon him, 
according to the fine-sounding “Press Law'' to a trial for libel. 
Or, according to that late provision which the ministry made them¬ 
selves, and which the Chambers have hardly thought of assailing, 
he might have confiscated the paper, and the sum deposited by the 
editors* But, with a littleness which has rarely been known in 
kings, he personally at once has ordered the man from his home 
into a disgraceful banishment. Frederick the Great , used to 
command the numerous libels put up in the streets against him to 
be pasted lower down, e*> that every body could read them! The 
contrast in his descendant is striking ! 

All the free Journals in Germany now are put under strict cen¬ 
sorship. The ministry are making constant use of the ordinance 
before alluded to. The mode in which this Ordinance was passed, 
will illustrate the present condition of this most Constitutional Mon¬ 
archy. 

In June, 1850, an attempt at assassination was made upon the 
King, by a discharged soldier. The act met with universal indig¬ 
nation from the nation. The king, however, either really supposing 
it revealed the wicked passions fermenting among the people, or 
using this as a good pretext, enacted through the ministry a tempo¬ 
rary law for the Press, (June 5, 1850). The whole proceeding was 



PRESS-LAW. 


219 


utterly opposed to the Constitution. This instrument contained a 
provision in regard to the Press, and can only be changed by a 
vote of the Chambers. The law, too, thus summarily passed by the 
king, was of a most oppressive nature. According to this, every 
journal issued more than three times in the week, must deposit 
with the public authorities, a sum varying from 1,000 to 5,000 
Thalers, which sum is forfeited whenever, in the view of the judge, 
the journal has endangered the public security. A more secure, 
quiet repressal of the liberty of the press cannot be imagined. In 
addition to this, the law enacts that transit by the public mails shall 
be forbidden to such papers, as the police may deem expedient. 

As was well said by one of the members in the Session just closed, 
“ the ministry might with equal right, without trial or sentence, for¬ 
bid the transit by public coaches of such members of the opposition, 
as the police might deem expedient! ” 

In fact, the Government is everywhere drawing the reins tighter ; 
and when in addition to this, it is mentioned, that in Prussia, the 
only body through which the Constitutional Party could have an 
influence, is suddenly adjourned, quite probably to meet for a longer 
adjournment, and that the absolute parties in Austria and Prussia 
are, without doubt, now combining to carry out their own objects, 
we may well say, that it looks gloomy for the cause of liberty in 
Germany. 

The discontent at the result of the “ Olmutz Conferences ” I find 
very great, and report says, the Prince of Prussia—brother of the 
king and next heir to the throne—a brave soldier, arbitrary enough, 
but true as steel to his word and to Prussia’s honor, is quite as much 
dissatisfied with it as the people. I was conversing recently with 
an army-officer, who told me that when the news of those stipula¬ 
tions reached Berlin, and there was such a danger of a revolution, 



220 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


he “ could not have fired on the people,” and that multitudes in the 
ranks felt in the same way. 

I have felt sometimes, in these old States, a momentary regret in 
comparing the rawness of our American society, our superficial cul¬ 
tivation, with their elegant and finished culture. But the moment 
I have turned to the political relations—to the complicated diffi¬ 
culties and long-standing abuses—to the capricious tyranny of 
rulers, and the astounding ignorance of subjects in these European 
governments, I have felt satisfied. Learning and Refinement can 
spring up even in the wilderness; but whether Freedom will ever 
grow where Slavery has so long been, seems a more doubtful 
question. 



CHAPTER XXIII. 


CHRISTMAS. 

My landlady has been rushing in now and then of late in the 
mornings in an excited way. “ Ach! Herr Brie —pardon ! Herr 
Braez! are you not getting ready for the Weihnachts-Fest ?” or, 
“ will you have no Fest on the Weihnacht—you must join in ours ! 
But I know, you Americans work too hard for such things!” 

I assure her, we do play sometimes, and ask her how she means 
to celebrate it. She has put up a nice large Christmas tree in the 
kitchen, she says, and the children are cutting out gilt spangles and 
fastening on candles, and then they are all to go next day to the 
Arabian Circus. I see, too, that the husband is bringing home an 
armful of presents, though the poor man is hopelessly in debt, and 
must creep in and out in the stealthiest way, to escape the needy- 
looking men, who are always lying in wait for him, with “ ac¬ 
counts.” 

There is a shoemaker’s family, too, I have often noticed, in the 
back basement, a very bright industrious set, but so poor. My 
landlady says the man only earns twelve groschen (30 cents,) a day, 
and she always gives them what there is left of her own dinners, 
but “ the children look very hungry some days —die armen ! (the 
#6 


222 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


poor things !) ” I see, however, as I walk by, through the low win¬ 
dow, a green Christmas tree, and the children are tying on the bits 
of candle. One gay evening in the dull year, at least. I find the 
whole city alive with preparations. Children hurrying about in the 
highest state of excitement; handsome carriages rattling from one 
shop to another; gigantic dolls staring you in the face everywhere, 
and gorgeous trees of wood and gilt paper, flaunting at every 
window. 

The square by the jSckloss, (Castle,) is green with Christmas 
trees; and behind it are long roWs of booths, each one filled with 
all imaginable articles, and each booth with its price. “ Here, eve¬ 
rything for groschen, (six cents) !” “ Here for six groschen!” &c. 

The pfeffer-kuchen —the immemorial cake for Christmas—are sell¬ 
ing off by the loads; and the walls are all covered with advertise¬ 
ments of books, songs, exhibitions, concerts, dioramas, circuses, for 
Christmas. 

I am surprised at the hold the festival has on the whole popula¬ 
tion. There are not a dozen families so poor, as not to have their 
tree and pfeffer-kuchen on the Weihnachts-eve. 

Even the preachers have alluded to it now for some weeks. 
Their analogies would be childish to us, but are evidently all real to 
the people. I went last Sunday to hear Buchsel , the preacher, 
of whom I have before spoken. Almost his whole subject was the 
Christmas Festival. 

He reminded the people how much reason there was for being 
happy ; that for a time now, they should put away their cares, and 
think of the great Gift of which this “ Fest ” was the memorial. 
As those were the unhappy children who have no home aud no 
presents on this joyful evening, so were the men pitiable, who had 
not received the Greatest of presents from above. And, as the 



THE TREE. 


223 


child who is unhappy or discontented, while receiving on these 
Christmas days so many marks of love from his father, is most- 
ungrateful, so are they, if they are gloomy now, while celebrating 
this festival in memory of their Father’s love. 

\ 

At an early hour in the evening, I was at the house of a friend, 
who had hospitably invited in an English gentleman and myself, to 
share in the Christmas festivities. 

We were at once shown into the dining-room, where the whole 
family were gathered, the children in an excited state of suspense; 
only one or two of the older people being allowed to make myste¬ 
rious visits into the parlors, where the presents were being arranged. 
Of course, none of the children would, for worlds, have broken in 
before the appointed signal of the bell; but they were continually 
making little incursions to the key-hole ; and the grave old father 
was kept in a constant frolic, in driving back these attacks. 

The excitement was raised to fever-heat when a large Christmas- 
box came suddenly in from a married daughter at a distance, 
packed full of unknown treasures. These were all carried into the 
parlors ; and after a little longer waiting, the bell rung, the doors 
were thrown open, and we all rushed in a promiscuous throng into 
the bright rooms. In the centre stood the large Christmas tree, all 
blazing with lights, and gilt, and tinsel; the presents hung upon 
it. We stopped to admire it, and especially the pretty little orato¬ 
rio made of pasteboard, with wax candles, where were the mother’s 
presents; next to hers came the father’s, and then the sons’ and the 
daughters’, and so on. 

Great were the huntings at once, each for his own. The mother 
had a surprise for the father, and the father for the mother, and the 



224 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY 


children for both, and even the little youngest, who was altogether 
overwhelmed by the outcries at first, became quite consoled when 
she found the stores of enormous dolls and unnameable animals, 
which were her part. The strangers were not forgotten, and we 
each found a pleasant memorial, with a spicy little epigram attached. 
As a traveler, I received with some books, a box of Berlin sand as 
a specimen of the place, and with a delicate allusion, that I 
would have it occasionally “ thrown in my eyes,” in some of my in 
vestigations. 

The verses on each set of presents, as they were read off, were 
received with shouts of laughter; and when the father, a clergyman, 
found a nice cigar case, with a bit of witty-poetry, there was a gen¬ 
eral clapping. After this, there were games and various quiet 
amusements, until at length in the middle of the evening, the mo¬ 
ther said, “ We will have our Christmas hymn, now ! ” So she sat 
down to the piano, and all the little ones were made quiet, and the 
whole family sung one of those sweetest of old German hymns, 
speaking of His patient goodness—of their own unworthiness, and 
the gratitude which they all for ever will owe to Him. 

I was rather surprised at the half-solemnity of the evening—the 
almost subdued happiness, and I asked them, whether they would 
ever dance on such an evening ? u Oh no! ” they said, “ scarcely 
any family would.” 

I left in the middle of the merrymaking, as I had been invited to 
another friend’s, whose family I much wished to see. 

The night was cold and blustering, so that the contrast was very 
pleasant as I stepped again into a warm, cheerful room, with tree 
and candles and presents, and met the hearty greeting. There is 
something about this German Festival, which one would seldom see 
in our home enjoyments.. People do not seem to be enjoying them- 



CONTRAST TO AMERICA. 


225 


selves, because it is a “ duty to be cheerful; ” and because a family¬ 
gathering is a very beautiful and desirable thing. They are cheer¬ 
ful, because they cannot help it, and because they all love one 
another. 

The expression of trustfulness through the children of these fam¬ 
ilies ; the open and unconscious affection shown by them all, was 
very beautiful to see. They were all so happy, because they had 
been making one another happy. 

As I recall our hollow home-life in many parts of America—the 
selfishness and coldness in families—the little hold Home has on 
any one, and the tendency of children to get rid of it as early as 
possible, I am conscious how much after all we have to learn from 
these easy Germans. 

There is a compensation, to be sure, in all these matters—our 
faults connect themselves with our strength—and a boy is an inde¬ 
pendent, self-reliant man with us, when he is in leading-strings in 
Germany. But there is growing up in our cities, a hankering after 
exciting pleasures, an aversion to the simple and pure enjoyments 
of home among the young, which forbodes badly for our family- 
life. 

Materialism—the passion for money-making, and excitement, is 
eating up the heart of our people. We are not a happy people; 
our families are not happy. Men look haggard and anxious and 
weary. We want something more genial and social and unselfish 
amongst us. A piety which prompts to petty self-sacrifices, and 
takes a pleasure in them, as well as in great. Any family-festivals 
of this kind; anything which will make home pleasanter, which 
will bind children together, and make them conscious of a distinct 
family-life, is most strongly needed. Good people are to recognize 
that there is a religion in Christmas feasts, as well as in prayer- 
10 * 



226 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


meetings; that a father who has made his home gloomy, has done 
quite as great a wrong to his children, perhaps, as he who made it 
irreligious. We want these German habits—these birth-day and 
Christmas festivals—this genial family-life, without the German 
weaknesses, if possible. 

In my friend’s family here, there were the same genial enjoyments, 
as in the other—perhaps even more subdued. I found myself again 
remembered kindly, with Christmas-tokens, so that I quite forgot 
the old family circle over the waters, which used to have its cheery 
gathering this evening—now wide scattered and broken. 

At the close, my friend read some touching, beautiful letters from 
Luther to his boy, which fastened the children’s attention quite as 
much as they did mine. 

After this, came the merry Christmas Eve supper, with the an¬ 
cient Berlin dish for the occasion, carps stewed in beer , followed by 

ni 

the Christmas-cake, pfefferkuchen , which to the undated may be 
described as a mild form of ginger-bread, sweetened with honey. 

Then at a late hour, hearty shakes of the hand, “ Viel Gluck ! ” 
and many good wishes for the future, and my first Christmas Eve 
in the German Fatherland was over. 



CHAPTEK XXIV. 


THE GERMAN UNION. 

Thus far in my travels through Germany, the question has con¬ 
stantly arisen to my mind, “ What is this German TJnion , about 
which I hear so many and such ardent thoughts ? ” What has it 
been in former times ? Was there ever a “ United Germany,” and is 
it probable that there ever will be ? 

I must confess to a very vague and indefinite knowledge pre¬ 
viously, as to the answers for all these queries; and not improbably, 
I shall have many companions, even among historical scholars, in 
my difficulty. We all know, either from German literature, or 
from European Journals, of this intense and almost poetic desire 
through the German race for “ Unity; ” we know also, that there is 
a Confederated whole, called Germany; but what the nature of this 

■s 

Confederacy is; on what pact it rests; what basis this desire of 
Union has had in past history, or what probabilities there are of its 
realization in the present time, or what are the causes of the 
strangely high-wrought German feeling on the matter, probably but 
few even among intelligent men can explain. 

In investigating this subject, I must forewarn the reader of some 
very dry chapters. Still, the facts to be given are indispensable to 


223 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


a correct understanding of Germany, and the movements even now 
at work within it. 


The Germanic Empire of history—the basis of the present Con¬ 
federacy-dissolved through the influence of Napoleon in 1806, 
may date its origin from the year 962, when Otho the Great, King 
of Germany, gained, by the conquest of Italy, the title of Emperor. 
The kingdom thus elevated into an Empire, was made up of five 
different nations, each governed by its own prince, and all united 
under one elected monarch. Its limits, especially on the east, were 
by no means those of modern Germany; still, in the main, they 
were determined by German Nationality, and the provinces and 
kingdoms lying beyond the territory of the original tribes, though 
belonging to the empire, were not represented in the Diet of the 
German States. The development of the empire, from this time, 
gradually into the Confederacy, which ensued, is very curious, and 
altogether different from the political changes in any other country 
of Europe. 

In France, and through all the feudal kingdoms, the different 
provinces or duchies were bestowed by the King on his favorite 
vassals as temporary governments, finally reverting to the Crown as 
fiefs, the result being, that each kingdom became at length a com¬ 
pact whole and the king absolute ruler. In Germany, on the other 
hand, there was a principle of law from the first, that the Emperor 
should unite no fief to his own property, nor hold one which he 
had possessed before his election or accession. The effect of this 
regulation and of other causes was, that gradually each of the 
Dukes or Electors became independent of the Crown; and the 
German Empire, in place of being one State under the command 



THE EMPIRE. 


229 


of a single head, resolved itself into a Confederation of States, yield¬ 
ing a nominal obedience to their elected ruler and diet, but each, in 
fact, independent and self-governing. This result was not obtained 
without difficulty. From the crowning of Otho to the peace of 
Westphalia, the history of the German Empire presents nothing 
but a scene of unintermitting discord and quarreling. The Emperor 
oppressing the Electors, and the Electors encroaching on the impe¬ 
rial right; the princes carrying on war against one another, and 
against the cities; the cities forming unions against the princes; 
and the knights combining against them all. In the eleventh cen¬ 
tury, Henry III succeeds for a short time in exercising almost abso¬ 
lute power; but his posterity is soon dispossessed; and in the 
thirteenth century, says Hallam, “ The place was now become a 
mockery of greatness. For more than two centuries, no withstand¬ 
ing the temporary influence of Frederick Barbarossa and his son, 
the imperial authority had been in a state of gradual decay. From 
the time of Frederick II, it had bordered on absolute insignificance ; 
and the more prudent princes were slow to canvass for a dignity so 
little accompanied by respect.” 

In 1220 and 1232 the territorial independence of the princes 
was first legally acknowledged by the Emperor, by two decrees, in 
which he engages “Neither to levy the customary imperial dues, 
nor to permit the jurisdiction of the palatine judges within the 
limits of a State of the Empire.”* 

During all this period, up to the peace of Westphalia in 1648, 
Germany, though nominally an Empire, was scarcely, on one occa¬ 
sion, able to exert any combined power on the rest of Europe. 

There was no national army of any account; no metropolis ; no 
representative of the government, except an impoverished Emperor; 

* Hallam, 



230 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


no union between the separate provinces; no court to decide upon 
their differences, or permanent Congress to give them all a com¬ 
bined influence. Germany was neither a powerful Confederacy of 
States, nor an absolute monarchy. Its strength was spent in inter¬ 
nal dissensions. Besides the existing wide divisions into dutchies 
and archbishoprics—each almost an independent state—the Empire, 
as if to make more absurd the claim to a German Union, was split 
up at different times into various internal Unions, each a rival to 
the other. There was the Hanseatic Union in the fourteenth cen¬ 
tury, or Union of the free cities ; the Electoral Union; the Rhenish 
Alliance; the Union of the Knights; some of the leagues being 
expressly formed to oppose the action of the Imperial Government. 

As the last source of complete separation of the different parts, 
was the spread of the Protestant Reformation; and, before the close 
of the seventeenth century, the distinction between the Protestant 
and Catholic States of Germany, grew to be as great as that be¬ 
tween the different nations of Europe. 

The old Constitution of the German Empire, though giving, as we 
see, no efficiency for foreign action, was somewhat more useful for 
internal administration; and, even if the Diet could not unite the 
whole confederacy for an effort against strangers, we must allow that 
it could at least sometimes protect a weaker member of its own 
body against a strong. However, it needed five centuries, before 
even a Federal Court could be formed to settle the national differ¬ 
ences, or an Executive established to carry out the decisions. 

The first great exposition of the German Constitution is in the 
Treaty of Westphalia, 1648; and on this as a basis, have rested the 
internal relations of the Empire, up to the time of its dissolution. 
Through the whole treaty, the different provinces of Germany are 
recognized not as members of an undivided kingdom, but as sepa- 




TREATY OF 1648. 


231 


rate states. Each of the princes is established “in his entire right 
of sovereignty over his own territory, in the power of making war, 
concluding peace, and forming alliances,” whether with the other 
princes or with foreign states; the only stipulation being that “ such 
alliance shall not be to the injury of the Empire.” The central 
power is stripped of almost all prerogatives of control over the indi¬ 
vidual states ; and the different parts are settled in their relations 
to each other, much as if they were hostile countries. 

So little is there of the constitution of a confederacy in this docu¬ 
ment, and so much of a treaty regulating the rights of conflicting 
states, that the principles settled here, have formed the basis of the 
European code of international law, since. 

There is no appearance, certainly, thus far, of “ German Union” 
in the constitution of Germany. Nor did this treaty tend to pro¬ 
mote it. The weak, it is true, were better protected by its stipula¬ 
tions, against the strong; but the forces of the Empire were just as 
useless for any foreign object as before. Various causes also tended 
now to sink still more the dignity of the Central Power. 

By various means, and through the strangest reverses, always 
rising strongest after defeat, gaining alike from marriage and 
alliance and even reverse, by robbery, and by purchase, by accident 
and by scheming, the House of Austria was building itself up an 
Empire, which would surpass even the ancient empire of the Czars, 
and under whose brilliancy the name of the German Empire would 
quite be lost. 

The King of Austria was, indeed, the Emperor of Germany, but 
all the forces which he could lead in his imperial capacitjq were not 
a third as numerous as the standing army of his own kingdom ; and 
those could only be collected under the greatest difficulty and oppo* 



232 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


sition. The great power of Central Europe became Austria and not 
Germany. 

A century later, also, another state suddenly rose in Germany, 
by a series of successes even more wonderful, and by acts of fraud 
and injustice, even more base—Prussia. It is not my purpose here 
to trace the growth of this petty Dukedom into one of the first 
European kingdoms. It is sufficient here to observe, that the suc¬ 
cessful position of Prussia in the eighteenth century as the Protes¬ 
tant rival of Austria, destroyed the last semblance of unity to the 
German Empire. Germany was lost out of view, as a separate state, 
and Austria and Prussia appear henceforth on the field of European 
politics. The German States were still nominally provinces of an 
empire, but were, in fact, independent powers, holding a loose con¬ 
federacy for the maintenance of internal peace, and clustering around 
the two great Kingdoms, who were for the future to dispute the 
power and the territory of Central Europe. The last blow to the 
falling empire was struck in 1806 , when fifteen of the German 
States separated themselves from the Imperial Alliance, and formed 
the Confederation of the Rhine , under the protectorship of Napo¬ 
leon. Thus was the old Empire of Charlemagne, after a nominal 
existence of more than a thousand years, in fact, dissolved ; and, in 
the same year, Francis II completed the legal act of dissolution, by 
relinquishing the crown of the Empire, and declaring himself simply, 
henceforth, Emperor of Austria. 

The Confederation of the Rhine, supported alone by the power 
of Napoleon, fell with his falling fortunes; and in 1814 - 15 , the 
German States, with their European allies, met at Vienna, to recon¬ 
struct Germany, and to give it a constitution, which should in some 
degree remedy the evils of the past, and answer the enthusiastic 
wishes of the People. 



CONGRESS OF VIENNA. 


233 


To the Constitution here given, after many changes and some al¬ 
most magnificent experiments, has Germany again returned; and he 
who would understand the present position of the German States, 
will perhaps find it worth his labor to accompany us in a brief sur¬ 
vey of the provisions of that Instrument, and of the changes wrought 
upon it, in the few succeeding years. 

The first gathering of the Deputies to the Congress of Vienna 
in November of 1814, was amid the almost boundless hope 
and enthusiasm of the whole German race. A mighty effort 
had just been made to cast off foreign oppression. The people 
had risen to the aid of their princes, with an exalted heroism 
and a self-sacrifice, such as has not been seen in the popular 
movements of modern days. Something of the solemnity, and 
of the inspiration of those stupendous events, which had deliv¬ 
ered Germany from the power of Napoleon, still rested on the na¬ 
tion and its rulers. The first proclamations of the sovereigns have 
almost a religious tone. And in the preceding year, at Kalisch , 
they had called upon the German people to “ struggle with them, 
with heart and mind, with good and blood, with body and life for 
the return of Freedom and Independence to Germany, and for the 
restoration of a worthy kingdom in suitable form, as may please the 
peoples and kings of Germany, and such as, in its traits and outlines, 
may spring from the original spirit of the German race; so that 
Germany, renewed in youth, vigorous and united, may take a posi¬ 
tion among the peoples of Europe.” 

“ For this object,” too, said Prince Metternich to this Congress, 
“ have the people seized arms; and all the States who have joined 
themselves to the great alliance, have declared themselves at their 
entrance, for the same end.” 

Already previously, (May, 1814) also in Paris, the allied sove- 



234 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


reigns had declared, that “ the States of Germany shall be indepen. 
dent, and united by a Federal tie.” 

Everything seemed to promise that Germany would at length be 
established, as her patriots had so long and ardently desired—as a 
vigorous Federal State, governed by a Parliament, at once represent¬ 
ing people and princes, able to act with power in foreign relations, 
yet made up of independent States, each possessing its own popular 
constitution. Unity of Germany and provincial constitutions, were 
the objects, everywhere, before the hopes of the people—to which 
many added a Federal Court, empowered to decide upon differences 
between the States. How these expectations were realized will be 
hereafter seen. 



CHAPTEK XXV. 


THE GERMAN CONFEDERACY. 

The first year of the Vienna Congress passed away with scarcely 
one tangible result. The old spirit of Austrian diplomacy seemed 
to have settled down on the members ; and amid the universal stretch 
of excitement among the people, incredible time and breath were 
wasted in the most superficial matters of ceremony; and wordy 
plans succeeded plan, until there seemed no end to the discussions. 
The sudden return of Napoleon from Elba, at length aroused the 
Deputies to the times in which they were living; and with a mar 
vellous despatch, the document was prepared which was to be the 
ground-work of the Constitution of Germany. The essential arti¬ 
cles, concerning the internal government of Germany, were as 
follows:— 

(Art. 2.) The object of the German Confederacy is the maintenance of the 
internal and external security of Germany, togther with the independence and 
inviolability of the confederated States. 

(Art. 3.) All the members of the Confederacy have, as such, equal and 
uniform rights. 

(Art. 4, 5, 7 and 9.) The general interests of the body shall be discussed 
and arranged at a Diet, in which each member shall have a vote, (either a 
single vote or a share in a collected vote). This Diet is appointed to sit at 
F r ankfort-on-the-Maine. It is perpetual, and the period of its adjournment 


236 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY 


must not extend beyond four months, at the most. Austria is to hold its 
presidency. 

(Art. 10.) The first business of the Diet, after its opening, will be the set¬ 
tlement of the fundamental laws of the Confederacy, and its organic relations, 
in connection with its internal, external, and military relations. 

(Art. 11.) All the members of the Confederacy promise to unite together 
against any and every attack, and when a war takes place, they pledge them¬ 
selves not to enter upon any secret compact, nor conclude any partial armi¬ 
stice or peace with the enemy. Meantime, they reserve to themselves the 
right of forming alliances of every kind, but they bind themselves down not 
to conclude any such alliance, which may injuriously affect the welfare and 
security of the country, or be opposed to the interests of any one individual 
member. At the same time, the members shall not be allowed under any 
pretext whatever, to carry on a war against each other, but shall lay all 
matters of dispute before the Diet, which shall either mediate or adjudge, 
and to the decisions of which the parties must submit. 

Article 13.— In all the States of the Confederation , there shall be a government 
by Constitutional Chambers (landstandische Vcrfassung .) 

Articles 18 and 19.—The subjects of the German princes shall have the 
right to pass from one state into another and to accept of either civil or mil¬ 
itary offices therein, if no military engagement already binds them to their 
native place. The Diet shall occupy itself with the formation of laws for 
the liberty of the press, and against piracy, as well as for the commercial 
and trading intercourse, between the states of the Confederation. 

Besides these provisions, there were stipulations with regard to the 
religious rights of the various sects ; and others regulating the mil¬ 
itary contingent for each member of the Confederacy. The army 
was to consist of 300,000 men, to which Austria contributes 94,000 ; 
Prussia, 79,000; Bavaria, 35,000; Wurtemberg, 13,600; Hano¬ 
ver, 13,000; Saxony, 12,000; Baden, 10,000; and the other mem¬ 
bers in proportion. The commander-in-chief for the whole army, is 
appointed by the Diet, to whom he renders the oath of duty and 
service, and from whom he receives orders and authority. 



RESULTS OF THE CONGRESS. 


237 


S ich was the gift of the Congress of Vienna to the German peo¬ 
ple. in return for their heroic efforts and sufferings. 

Even the ambassadors* of some of the monarchical powers of 
Germany had expressed the desire before the meeting of the Assem¬ 
bly, that the future constitution should contain at least provisions 
for a Federal Court to decide between subjects and the rulers; that 
provincial representative constitutions should be guaranteed by the 
Confederacy, and a popular representation have a share in the Diet. 
None of these were given. There is no approach made to the 
Unity of the People. No Federal Court is established; no execu¬ 
tive department; no representation abroad; no common code of 
law. Neither people, nor provincial legislatures have any share in 
the government of Germany. And so little weight had the 11th 
article, even at the time, enjoining that “ no member of the Con¬ 
federacy should conclude a partial armistice or peace with the enemy,” 
that at the second Peace of Paris, Austria and Prussia alone of the 
Confederacy, were parties in the treaty, which was to settle the 
afihirs of Germany. In truth, it was not a unity of Germany which 
was gained, but a unity of her princes. 

Neither do popular rights fare better. Liberty of the press, pub¬ 
licity of trials, and trial by jury—so long demanded—are nowhere 
bestowed. Popular representation in the legislatures, is not se¬ 
cured ; and the provincial constitutions are not protected. The 
only answer to the universal cry of the nation for a constitution, is 
answered by the enigmatical words of Art. 13. “ Landstandische 
Verfassung ,” skillfully contrived to mean a constitutional govern¬ 
ment, based either on popular representation, or on assemblies ap- 

* Von Stein, Humboldt, and others. (Stein’s Leben. Entwurf der Deuts- 
chen Verfassung. Die Gegenwart, 1848. 12th Heft. Wirth’s Geschichte der 
Deutschen Staaten, voh 1 ) 



268 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


pointed by the Government. Pure monarchical rule is the princi¬ 
ple recognized throughout. Constitutional Government is the excep¬ 
tion. 

The result, in fact, of this long hoped-for Congress, was not to 
make Germany more united, or more free, but to throw more 
power into the hands of Austria and Prussia; and to strengthen 
the rule of the princes over the people. 

It will be seen, as we go on, that the progress of events from 1815 
to our day, has only confirmed these tendencies; that more and 
more the German'Confederacy has been changing into a Confede¬ 
racy of princes, and the Diet of the League, yielding itself up into 
the hands of Austria as an instrument of absolute power, until the 
sudden and terrific outburst of popular passion in 1848, has scat¬ 
tered the whole structure to the winds. That the new Govern¬ 
ment raised by the people has proved as unsatisfactory as the 
old, and that this year, (1851) has witnessed a return to the 
princely Confederacy of ’15, more unconditional and more absolute 
than ever before, and to a prostration and oppression of the people 
more hopeless and more complete than in the worst days of the 
Past. 


The acts of the Vienna Congress, naturally aroused a universal 
discontent among the free spirits of Germany; which showed itself 
during the next four years, in very manifest forms. The students 
and young men especially, felt the disappointment, and vented theii 
feelings, sometimes a little extravagantly. The governments pro¬ 
fessed to be alarmed. And at length, when in the increase of the 
excitement, Kotzebue was murdered by a crazed young man, a 
student and a member also of some of the secret clubs, they sounded 



NEW TYRANNIES. 


239 


the alarm of a universal conspiracy for murder and revolution among 
the German youth. A more unfortunate act for German liberty 
never occurred, than this maniac-blow of the over-wrought student. 
It gave to the princes the pretext, so much desired and so influen¬ 
tial upon the whole conservative party of Germany, for passing 
stricter measures. The Conferences at Karlsbad were the result, 
and in Sept. 1819, a new set of ordinances still more thoroughly 
enslaving the nation. 

These were directed especially to limiting the freedom of the 
press and to strengthening the central power of the Diet. A com¬ 
mission was appointed to watch over the execution of the decrees of 
the National Assembly. Another to investigate all revolutionary 
movements, with powers to arrest any suspicious or dangerous indi¬ 
viduals, and to control any local authorities. Officers, too, are 
chosen to watch over the universities, and report the names of those 
professors whose instructions are opposed to the spirit of these Con¬ 
ferences. A professor displaced on this ground can enter no other 
university in any State of the Confederacy. 

No writing, it is also provided, under twenty pages, can be printed 
without the consent of the State authorities; and any State, where 
such writings are issued, dangerous to the public welfare, will be held 
responsible to the Diet. 

The Diet, too, shall have the right, at pleasure, of suppressing 
any such printed writings in any State of the Confederacy. 

It will be seen that these decrees throw a very great power over 
the individual States into the hands of the princes, and almost com¬ 
pletely muzzle the popular press. The despotism was completed by 
the “Closing acts of the Vienna Congress” the next year—(June 
1820). Among these, we only quote the following : 

(Art. 57.) As the German Confederacy, with the exception of the free 



240 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


cities, is composed of sovereign princes , so must in consequence of this funda¬ 
mental idea, the collected power of the State remain united in the ruler of 
the State; and the sovereign, by the Constitution, can be bound to co¬ 
operate with the Chambers, only in the practice of definite rights. 

(Art. 58.) The sovereign princes united in the Confederacy, shall be 
hindered or limited in their federal obligations, by no provincial Constitu¬ 
tion. 

Article sixty-one forbids interference by the Confederacy in the 
contests between rulers and the chambers, unless through the resist¬ 
ance of the subjects to the authorities, the internal tranquillity be 
disturbed; or unless the government, after the use of all lawful and 
constitutional means, appeals to the assistance of the Confederacy. 

Thus was Metternich’s policy triumphant. The ruling power is 
declared to be vested alone in the princes. The provincial legisla¬ 
tures are not only under the control of these princes, but also under 
that of the Diet. The great constitutional right—that of raising 
the revenue—is taken from the Chambers. The powers bestowed 
on the separate rulers, are so vaguely worded, that they would 
admit of almost indefinite extension. And the unity of Germany is 
at length secured, by giving nearly absolute power to the organ of 
its princes. 

From this time (1820) till 1848, the Diet of the German Con¬ 
federacy has kept on a regular and consistent course of oppression. 
The people have cried for u Unity” of government, and the Diet 
have given them “ Unity” of police. Nothing has been done for 
Germany. No German fleet appointed ; no representation abroad ; 
no common law; no united postage, or united revenue system, 
or common weight, or measure, or coinage. But wherever free 
thought could be stifled; where the press could be curbed, or 
the university watched; where associations could be restrained, 
or the efforts of an oppressed population to regain its rights 



THE DIET. 


2-41 


be crushed, there has been unity of action enough on the part 
of the Diet. Every year it has sunk in the respect of the 
people. In 1824, it is found passing laws which utterly destroy 
the independence and the lowest rights of the provincial cham¬ 
bers. 

In the year succeeding, there is no object of a revolutionary 
character so insignificant, in which the National Assembly of Ger¬ 
many cannot interfere. It legislates upon political clubs, on popu¬ 
lar festivals, on radical newspapers; it passes acts against red 
cockades and democratic hats; and at length, it is seen in 1834 
enacting four solemn decrees on the travels of German apprentices ! 
It had become, amid the contempt of the people, the great police- 
office of Germany. 

The news of the Revolution of ’30 in France, spread deep excite¬ 
ment through Germany. The people became more urgent in their 
demands; and insurrections took place through various provinces. 
No good result, however, ensued. The government saw that any 
popular representation in the National Assembly, would limit the 
power of the rulers. And each feared to take measures for any 
greater unity of administration, lest in the new Constitution 
some of the rival governments should gain the ascendancy. If 
there were to be a united Germany, Austria dreaded that Prussia 
would become the executive head; and Prussia feared to take a 
second place to Austria; and the smaller governments apprehended 
their being entirely swallowed up by the two combined. 

So again did Germany—the “ patient, much-suffering” Germany 

♦ 

with its forty millions of inhabitants, resign itself to he robbed of 
its rights, because thirty princes—mere men, and very common 
place men—could not arrange their petty and interminable rivalries 
and jealousies. 


11 



242 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


As I study the records of this time of darkness; as I observe the 
inquisition-like watchfulness of the police, the open and unrebuked 
acts of oppression, the subserviency and poltroonery of leading 
statesmen; as I see in the correspondence of men of the period, the 
indignation and discontent, working terribly through the middle 
classes of the people ; and at the same time, the step of the oppres¬ 
sors bolder and steadier than before, 1 am recalled to the present 
aspect of Germany. 

The Diet of ’51 differs not a hair’s breadth from that of ’31, 
unless in being, if possible, more absolute and more unprincipled. 
There is the same discontented, unhappy, oppressed Germany. 

To the wise man of that day, there were warnings in the move¬ 
ments around him, of that terrible convulsion which in a few years 
was to shatter almost every throne in Germany. Are there not 
signs now to the watchful observer, darker and even more threat¬ 
ening ? 

To follow through the acts of petty oppression, or wide injustice 
which characterize the history of the German Bundestag , or Diet, 
till 1848, is happily beyond my present object. In February, 1848 
a member of the Second Chamber of Baden, rose and offered the 
motion, that a petition be addressed to the Duke for the formation 
of a popular Chamber, in the Diet. The motion met with universal 
applause through Germany; and amid the increasing murmurs of 
revolution from every side, was discussed with the utmost freedom. 
The talk soon became openly of a new “ German popular Confede¬ 
racy.” The governments were alarmed ; the Diet put forth procla¬ 
mations ; but in the midst, the news came thundering through 
Germany of another French Revolution, and a French Republic! 
All saw at once that the days of the old regime were numbered. 



THE PARLIAMENT. 


243 


Six months before, words disrespectful to the Diet were high 
treason. Now a Prussian minister dared to say, that the “ Consti¬ 
tution of the Confederacy was so much worthless paper,” that “ he 
would know nothing of the Confederacy, as a Confederacy of sove¬ 
reign Princes.” And another, ( Bodelschwingh) that “ the Consti¬ 
tution of the German League was something more than a piece of 
paper, on which were written the articles of Confederation, a mere 
treaty—that it was a powerful, mighty Being—a brotherhood of 
forty millions of Germans ! ” 

The Diet made every struggle for existence. It issued liberal 
proclamations; it voted the old German colors, which it had once 
so stringently denounced; it proposed to the Governments to send 
deputies to Frankfort, to revise the old Constitution. But it was 
too late. The people could not believe, that anything good could 
come out of the Bundestag. And on the 31st of March, 1848, a 
Revolutionary Assembly had met at Frankfort, composed of about 
five hundred deputies from all parts of Germany, to deliberate on the 
election and formation of a grand new National Parliament. 

With this almost self-elected body, (the Fore-Parliament) and 
with its successor, the National Parliament, the old Diet strove hard 
to agree. But it found continually, that its young rivals were en¬ 
croaching on it; that the law-giving power was first taken away, 
and then, by the formation of a “ provisional central power,” its 
executive office was reduced to nothing; and that all parties, princes 
and people, had lost respect and confidence for it. 

At length, on the 12th of July, 1848, it terminated its existence, 
by the President of the Diet formally transferring its rights and au¬ 
thorities to the Administrator of the new Federal Germany, Arch 
Duke John. 

Whether, says a spirited writer in the “ Gegenwart ” of ’49, the 



244 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY 


German League was also dissolved by this dissolution of the Diet, 
is still a question. One thing is certain, The League which the 
sovereign German princes and free cities had made, and whose organ 
and representative was the German Diet, is on the 12th of July, 
buried for eternal times. Over its tomb, has the League of the 
Nation been erected ; a new covenant with a new meaning is made, 
to which also the new form will not be wanting. May soon to our 
descendants, the disgrace of the old League, be only an incredible 
fact! 

Alas! the writer himself has probably lived to see the u Old 
League returned “ tenfold worse than before.” 



CHAPTER XXYI. 


THE LAST ATTEMPTS FOR GERMAN UNION. 

Of the German Rational Parliament in 1848-9,1 do not 
propose here particularly to speak. It is an interesting historical 
fact, but in no way closely connected with the present condition of 
Germany. The attempt was a splendid experiment—thus to build up, 
on popular representation, a consolidated empire, of thirty indepen¬ 
dent sovereign states. The intense hopes and almost passionate ex¬ 
pectations of the lovers of freedom through the whole German Father- 
land, followed the effort. The Germany, which the Professor’s at 
Frankfort would frame in one session, was such as the Past had 
never seen. It was neither the old Empire, with its rival and con¬ 
flicting States; nor the modern Confederacy, with its union of des¬ 
potic princes. It was a free, popular, compact Germany. The forty 
millions of the German race were at length to stand, as one people 
in Europe. A new state, more powerful than the Germany of 
Charlemagne, of Frederick II, or of Charles Y, was at once to be 
erected. Prussia was to disappear as Prussia ; Austria to be only a 
second-rate power; Saxony, Bavaria, Hanover, to be only provinces 
in this mighty kingdom. A common law, a common coinage, a 
common force was to rule from the Baltic to the Adriatic—and an 
executive to be chosen with powers such as the old German Em- 


246 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


peror never dared to claim. All this grand Empire was to be 
governed by a constitutional Parliament, based on free, popular 
representation—a magnificent project, and formed under the influ¬ 
ence of the noblest purposes. Still, we are forced to confess it was 
one for which Germany has never yet shown herself prepared. In¬ 
numerable difficulties incumbered the Frankfort legislators on every 
side. They knew nothing themselves of practical politics. Each 
one had his own political theory, elaborated long in the study or 
the lecture-room; and now, on this grand theatre, it must be dis¬ 
played and realized. Endless, hair-splitting discussions occupied the 
golden time, when they might have firmly settled their authority 
over the whole nation. Questions pressed upon them, also, which 
might have puzzled much older legislators—the relations of the 
Central Power with the different States, and the obligations of the 
States to this new, undefined general government. The democracy 
besieged them on the one hand, with their demands for a universal 
license, and the governments, on the other, asserted the indepen¬ 
dence of the separate kingdoms. They could content neither party ; 
and asserted rights over each, which the other would not aid them 
in maintaining. In excluding the non-Germanic provinces, they 
offended Austria; and in their democratic discussions, alarmed 
Prussia. Even the offer of the crown of the new German Empire 
could not win over the Prussian king. And when, at length, they 
called in the soldiers of the princes, to save them from the violence 
of the people, it was felt that their day of power was over. The 
first formal intimation of the helplessness of the Parliament was 
given in May, 1849, to its envoy, by the Prussian Minister, who 
coldly “ declined any foreign interference in their interior affairs,” and 
recommended to the Central Power, to “ confine its attention to 
matters nearer home.” 



NEW UNIONS. 


247 


Nothing daunted, that body (May 10th) made a bold declara¬ 
tion that a recent act of Prussia—her interference in the Dresden 
insurrection—was a violation of the public peace ; whereupoh (May 
14, 1849) the Prussian Government proclaimed the authority of the 
Parliament at an end, and that it “ was no longer the representative 
of the German Nation.” 

With this terminated, so far as its influence over Germany was 
concerned, the existence of the German National Parliament. 


Despite this sad failure of the popular attempt to form a 
United Germany, the efforts were still continued on the side of the 
princes. 

The king of Prussia now made overtures for a German Union; 
and on the 26th of May, (1849), struck a league with the kings of 
Saxony and Hanover, known as the “ League of the three Kings.” 
In this Union, twenty-eight States were gathered. It was not 
claimed to be a universal union, but according to one of the articles 
of the Treaty of Vienna, was formed as a separate league ( Sonder- 
bund) within the German League. 

As an offset to this, Austria (September 30) instituted a Federal 
Commission or Executive Council, to take the place of the executive 
administered by Archduke John ; thus forming another German 
Federal Government. 

The “ League of the three Kings” did not enjoy a long existence. 
The kings of Saxony and Hanover soon found that its great object 
was to make Prussia the leading state of Germany ; and as they no 
longer had need of Prussian soldiers to restrain their turbulent peo¬ 
ples, they abruptly retired, with the declaration, that “ the measures 




248 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


of Prussia for forming a Federal State were hardly opportune, when 
the whole of South Germany was wanting.” 

“ German Union” was in fact now nearly given up, and the 
struggle was to be between Prussian Union and Austrian Union. 
To* complete the division, the smaller kingdoms, Bavaria, Wiirtem- 
burg and Saxony, in their fear of the two great rivals, fbrmed (Feb¬ 
ruary 27, 1850) another Union. Thus did the opening of 1850 
show to the world, as the result of the enthusiastic struggles of 
1848, for a united Germany, no less than three separate Unions, 
rivals and enemies, within the limits of the German Confederacy. 

The king of Prussia did not yet, however, entirely abandon his 
efforts for a confederacy. Whether with his ideal enthusiasm he 
had really formed a scheme for a United Fatherland, which, with 
characteristic fickleness, he as easily threw aside; or whether he 
merely intended the whole movement as a blind to his disappointed 
people, is not to my mind, from the result, clear. On March 20th, 
he summoned a Congress at Erfurt, seriously to consider the forma¬ 
tion of a Federal Germany. The plan laid before this body, for the 
Constitution of the German Empire, was perhaps too democratic 
and too favorable to unity, to please even the court itself. 

Within a month, the Congress was dissolved, to be replaced by a 
“Congress of Princes,” who were to meet the 10th of May, at 
Gotha, to consult for similar objects. On that same day, however, 
Austria had taken a much more important step, which has deter¬ 
mined the condition of Germany up to the present time. With a 
bold forgetfulness of thirty-five years of popular discontent and fear¬ 
ful suffering and out-bursting rebellion, under the old German Bund ; 
with an insulting defiance to all Prussia’s efforts and those of the 
nation for a new confederacy, she calmly summoned the plenipo- 



POLITICAL CHANGES. 


249 


tentiaries of the German Governments to Frankfort, on the 10th of 
May, to hold the full session {Plenum*) of the old Diet. 

In other words, she returned formally, to the Vienna Treaties of 
1815, as the basis of the German Constitution. Of her success in 
this apparently difficult and presumptuous undertaking, I shall not 
here speak minutely. It is enough to say, that by bold bearing 
and shrewd diplomacy, she ousted Prussia from every new position, 
degraded her in the eyes of her own friends, and succeeded in 
carrying every point of her daring policy. 

Germany, so long agitated, torn and wounded in her struggles 
for National Freedom, and Unity, now lies calmly under the old 
arbitrary regulations of 1815; governed by the detested Bund ot 
confederated petty tyrants, with the House of Hapsburg at the head, 
enjoying an unchecked dominion, such as her proudest emperors 
have not held. 


That the Past gives but little hope of a union for Germany must 
be painfully evident, even from this brief abstract of her history. 
There never has been a United Germany. The old Germanic 
Homan Empire was only an ill-adjusted League of independent 
states for the sake of internal peace. The modern confederacy has 
been only a Confederacy of princes, banded to oppress the people. 
Kings, who from motives of ambition or of romance, have labored 

* The Plenum was the legislative body of the Diet, with sixty-nine 
voices, of which each state had at least one, and some four. The smaller 
Executive Council had only seventeen voices, of which eleven States had 
each one, and all the others only six. The discussions in regard to the num- 
her of votes to each state, formed, afterwards, the most important part of the 
proceedings at the u Dresden Conferences,” in 1851. 

11 * 




250 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


to rebuild a grand German Empire, have equally failed with Par¬ 
liaments and representatives elected to construct a popular state. 
Every experiment has had its trial, whether coming from the prince, 
the professor, or the popular statesman—and each has come to 
nought. 

Neither do present appearances promise better. There are now 
in Germany, taking the statistics for 1849,* thirty-eight separate, 
independent states, containing 46 millions of inhabitants. Of these 
the two largest, (Austria and Prussia,) have nearly 28 millions, or 
more than half the whole number. Of the others, the three king¬ 
doms, (Hanover, Wiirtemberg, and Saxony,) have not any one, a 
population as great as London; and the seventeen smallest states, or 
more than half of the whole, have not together, more inhabitants 
than Paris. 

The population of the different states ranges from 6,500 (Prince¬ 
dom of Liechtenstein,) to 15,648,000 (Prussia.) 

Each one of these petty states, princedoms, duchies, and king¬ 
doms, has its own distinct government; its own code of laws ; its 
own past history; and especially, its own ineradicable jealousy of 
its nearest neighbors. The only bond to this multitude of states, is 
a common language and a common blood. It is manifest from the 
very statement of their population, that the two largest powers com¬ 
pletely hold the others in cheek; and that no attempt at Union can 
succeed, in which both these do not join. 

When it is remembered that these two States are the representa¬ 
tives of different religions, and of different political schools; that 
behind them lies a long history of bitter hatred and warfare; that 
each has its national pride and local interests, must we not feai 
* Die Gegenwart, No. 25, 1849. 



HOPES FOR GERMANY. 


251 


many a year will pass yet, before a German Union is framed by the 
union of Prussia and Austria. 

It is true, our own American Confederacy of heterogeneous races, 
and religions, and interests, might give us hope for Germany. But 
with us, there is not this past history of intense jealousy and unceas¬ 
ing dissension ; there is not the local boundary, which at once separates 
religions and interests. The Frenchman of New Orleans, the Catholic- 
German of Ohio, and the planter of the Carolinas, look back to the 
same history, and work often side by side with the Anglo-Saxon and 
the Puritan. But for the Prussian to forget he is a Prussian, or for 
the Austrian to sink his memory of a proud history, for the Saxon, the 
Bavarian and the Hanoverian to bury their time-embittered jealousies ; 
for one and all, Monarchist and Republican, the Jesuit of Vienna, 
and the Rationalist of Beilin, the passionate Southerner and the cool 
North-German, to unite and form a new compact Federal State, 
seems as yet like a dream only of the lovers of Freedom. 

Yet it shall not be always so. It is manifest through the whole 
history, that it is the People who have always most longed for 
union. They have seen that liberty from these thirty tyrants, could 
only be secured by their own harmony. A united, popular Ger¬ 
many would throw off as encumbrances, this horde of petty op¬ 
pressors. 

When, at length, there is a Germany with a common people edu¬ 
cated for Liberty, when revolution is a struggle not for license but 
for rights, then will there be the first approach to Unity. A free 
Germany must be a united Germany. Sectional jealousies will dis¬ 
appear in the great victory of popular rights. Prussia may still be 
Prussia, as distinct from Austria, as with us Massachusetts is from 
Louisiana; but, with a people disciplined for freedom and with no 
princely houses to foment the jealousies, what is there to hinder them 



252 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


at length from combining for great public objects under one common 
Constitution. 

If the nations of Europe ever learn the lesson of self-government 
from these many defeats, we believe that Germany may at length, 
realize the old dread of her patriots—A German Union. 



CHAPTER XXVII. 


A PRUSSIAN OFFICER—AND THE ARMT. 

Janvaby, 1851. 

I have been holding a very interesting conversation to-day with 

a Prussian gentleman, a retired officer, Colonel-, well known 

to the Americans here. He is of the old school, having served un¬ 
der Bliicher; and was wounded, I think, at Waterloo, and after¬ 
wards pensioned. He has all the Prussian pride, and that military 
corps-feeling which the government has so cherished. A devoted 
Royalist, though just now it seems to pain him, as we speak of the 
king; and we are quite cautious about alluding to these late events. 
He thinks this recent disgrace in Cassel before the Austrians is all 
from “the evil counsellors of His Majesty.” “New men are in,” 
he says, “ who do not care for the honor of Prussia ! ” According 
to his account, and the general opinion, the tone of the army has 
been wonderfully raised within a few years. No flogging, or brutal 
punishment is allowed now. A man previously sentenced for a 
criminal offence is never admitted into the ranks. There are “ courts 
of honor,” too, among the officers, which can punish, and severely, 
any infringement of the “ code.” Their decisions in weighty mat¬ 
ters are submitted to the king. Every means is used to give this 
high, gentlemanly tone to the army. The officers (of the line) 


254 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY 


must all be men of education, and pass an examination at every new 
step in rank. Every private can reach the highest place, if he only 
show merit enough. Colonel-’s account is entirely substanti¬ 

ated by what I observe everywhere in Berlin. The city is crowded 
with soldiery, but the manners of officers to privates are the most 
exact possible. A failure in courtesy on either side is considered an 
offence. An under-officer was recently put under arrest for neglect¬ 
ing to touch his hat to a superior; and there is a story told of a 
Lieutenant B., who lately met a private in the street, and in return 
for his salute, stopped and chucked him under the chin, in an in¬ 
sulting way. The soldier, though bitterly offended, remained true 
to his military etiquette , touched his hat again with the words, “ I 
report myself insulted ! ” and at once entered a complaint. The 
Lieutenant was publicly disgraced. 

I find soldiers generally in society here; and there is a very con¬ 
siderable sprinkling of epaulettes in the lecture-rooms at the Uni¬ 
versity. The three years course at the Military Academy demands 
a certain amount of time to be spent in the University. Besides 
this school, there are Artillery and Engineering Schools in the city, 
Riding Schools and a Medical College for the Arm}^. Everything 
shows that the greatest possible pains are taken to make the sol¬ 
diers’ profession, an educated profession. 

I asked Colonel-, whether the soldiers ever took part in po¬ 
litical life at all ? “ No,” he said. “ An army, in the nature of the 

case, must obey; and we do not permit the soldiers to take oath on 
the Constitution. We all obey the king alone. Besides, according 
to the Constitution last year, there can be no assemblies or elections 
in the army, and we hope there never will be. May God long 
preserve our gallant host from these poisonous democratic move¬ 
ments ! ” 




A LOYAL SOLDIER. 


255 


Did not he fear combinations among them ? 

No; for the officers are usually so distinct from the privates, and 
from such different districts, that they would not easily unite. Be¬ 
sides there is a great deal of esprit du corps in the militia, (Land* 
wehr) as the battalions are raised each from its own district, and 
represent that part of the country. As for the regular line, they 
will never combine, with God’s aid, except as in 1814 to defend their 
country. “ No, monsieur; it is not Democracy which our brave 
army has to fear; it is these misguided men who are now at the 
helm of government. If our soldiers lose the sense of Prussian 
honor —alles ist verloren —all is gone ! ” 

My friend, the Colonel’s,views were equally exaltirt , as the Ger¬ 
mans say, or enthusiastic on everything pertaining to the army 
He even defended that ugly, blue frock-coat, a garment made appa¬ 
rently neither for peace nor war—too ill-fitting for a citizen, and too 
plain for a soldier. The spiked leather helmets, he assured me, 
were also the most convenient head-pieces, and were often bullet¬ 
proof. The minie, or Zundnadel rifle, so much in use in the Prus¬ 
sian army, he says will strike its mark a half-mile without difficulty, 
and is a very great improvement. Other military men, I find, do 
not speak so well of it. It is cumbersome ; and takes much time 
in the cleaning and loading, and is very liable to get out of repair, 
they say. 

Whenever I converse with a Prussian soldier, or study the mili¬ 
tary system which has formed him, I am struck with the skill with 
which a nation of soldiers is thus educated, and put at the disposal 
of one man. An organization so compact, so easily managed, and, 
at the same time, so calculated to uphold the sovereign, has, per¬ 
haps, never been witnessed in history. The army of nearly 800,000 
fighting men is not a set of war-machines, like the Austrian troops, 



256 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


or of blind, ignorant devotees, like the Russian. It is a proud, chiv¬ 
alrous, high-spirited body. It is entirely separated from the State; 
while its internal organization is essentially popular. No political 
sympathies are allowed. Its thoughts and feelings are all turned 
within itself. Merit, talent and bravery can win the highest rank ; 
and the soldier is taught early, that the honor of his corps and his 
King are especially entrusted to him. He owes no allegiance to the 
State. The king is his Commander-in-chief, and alone has the power 
of promoting him. 

It will furnish a clearer idea of the power thus put into the hands 
of the King of Prussia, to give a brief description of this famous 
military system. 

Every young man in Prussia, on reaching the age of twenty, is 
liable to be drafted into the ranks of the standing army. No sub¬ 
stitute is allowed ; and except in princes of the blood, no exceptions 
are made—not even for the nobility or the clergymen. If he is 
drafted into the infantry of the line, he serves two years ; if, into that 
of the guard, three years. If, however, he be a volunteer, and can 
show a certificate of previous examination, proving a certain mode¬ 
rate degree of scientific education, his time of service is shortened to 
one year, at his own expense. A part, too, of the regular service is 
often shortened for the others, by their being placed in the “ Re¬ 
serve,” as the regiments are not filled out in time of peace. When¬ 
ever the army is to be prepared for war, or mobilised , the Reserve 
step into their respective regiments again. Though all the men 
through Prussia twenty years old are liable thus to be drawn into the 
ranks, not more than half are drawn annually. In 1846, it is reckoned 
that there were 160,000 men in Prussia of that age; of these 
17,719 were called out, and only 39,790 sent to the regiments— 



THE ARMY. 


257 


the rest being kept as Reserve. The regular army numbers 138,810; 
with the Reserve 225,550. 

Besides this, there are two divisions of militia (Landwehr); and 
another body of reserve (Landsturm). To the first division belong 
all the men of the kingdom from twenty-five to thirty-three years 
of age, or those who have served five years in the line. The time 
of service in this is seven years. This body is designed mostly for 
defence, and numbers (in 1850) 174,616. It can be used, how¬ 
ever, for external war, in aid of the regular troops. The second 
division takes all those who have served seven years in the first 
and who are between thirty-three and thirty-nine years. This is 
employed for fortresses and for internal defence alone. It numbers 
175,196. 

The last reserve (Landsturm) is never called out except in case 
of an invasion by the enemy within the country, or in any great 
danger, at the command alone of the King. To it, belong all who 
have served in the other divisions, who are yet under fifty years of 
age, and all who have not served, from seventeen to twenty years 
of age. 

The standing army, with the two divisions, would reach the num¬ 
ber of 574,362; and on a war footing would not be far from 690,000 
men. Adding the last reserve of militia, and the Prussian host 
would amount to nearly 800,000 fighting men. 

This immense host, too, be it remembered, is not a multitude of 
raw soldiers, such as we usually call militia; but nearly all men, 
drilled for many years in military exercises, commanded by care¬ 
fully educated officers, and animated by a common military pride. 
A more tremendous weapon has scarce ever been in the hands of a 
modern State. It should be borne in mind, too, that since it was 
used with such fearful effect upon Napoleon, it has hardly been 



SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


25 8 


wielded in these modern wars. In 1806, the army had become 
thoroughly vitiated by luxury, and altogether turned from the popu¬ 
lar and spirited direction given to it by the Great Frederick. It 
needed the fearful and disgraceful punishment, which Napoleon 
inflicted, to bring it back to a suitable spirit. Under those days of 
sore trial and crushing disgrace, it learned a lesson which it will 
never forget; and with the skillful organization of Scharnhorst, it 
resumed its old character. It was popularized; ranks were thrown 
open ; new honors held forth; and the ancient esprit du corps 
evoked. Every nerve, too, of the lamed and exhausted kingdom 
was strained to fill it. And with success.. Of all the attacks which 
beat back the iron columns of Napoleon in the disastrous campaign, 
that ended in the battle of Paris, none were so unrelenting and so 
irresistible as those of Bliicher and his fiery Prussian corps. 

In these late years, the army has been only occasionally em¬ 
ployed ; and then for no cause which could especially arouse its 
spirit. To shoot down democrats in Baden, or extinguish revolu¬ 
tions in Dresden, would hardly satisfy the old Prussian pride. The 
war in Holstein against the Danes was of a more popular nature. 
And in this the Prussians swept everything before them. This 
winter has witnessed the first grand preparations for war in Prussia, 
since the campaigns against Napoleon. The whole nation rose, as 
they did in 1814. Had this king possessed the genius or the 
spirit of his great ancestor, he might have led a conquering army 
from one end of Germany to the other. At the head of the whole 
liberal party of Germany, with a nation of soldiers confident of victory, 
nothing could have withstood him. Twice has Frederick William 
thrown away those grand opportunities which fortune seldom offers 
men even once. The first time, the imperial crown of Germany 



ITS EXPENSE. 


259 


was within his reach. The second, a whole people stood in arms at 
his summons, burning for vengeance. By his timidity in the first, 
he has alienated the whole liberal interest of Germany; by his fickle¬ 
ness in the second, he has lost his greatest support, the devotion of 
the Prussian army. 

Who shall say, that in these strange weaknesses of its rulers, 
Providence is not bringing on a better day for Prussia ? 

This great army organization, is an immense expense and loss to 
Prussia. In 1848 there were in the kingdom 1,794,051 men be¬ 
tween the ages of twenty and thirty-two. Of these, more than one 
quarter were withdrawn from all the pursuits which tend to increase 
the wealth or the happiness of the people, from all care of their 
families, and all steady labor, to spend their time in military drilling. 
Everywhere in the country, one sees, that the fields are tilled by 
women, while the men are leading idle and mechanical lives in the 
barracks of the cities. 

All active thought is extinguished, except in professional matters; 
practice in political affairs is lost, as the soldier, “Nach der Natur 
der Sache ,” in the nature of the case, as my friend the colonel said, 
cannot be a citizen. The whole system over the modern Prussian 
tends only to make him a loyal feudal servant of his lord the King, 
and of the great “ Prussian Royal Army.” 

Besides the loss, ir^ the absence of so many able-bodied men from 
all useful pursuits, Prussia pays in time of peace for her army, 
$19,150,000 per annum—or nearly three times the sum paid for 
the same object by the United States, with a population ten millions 
greater, and a territory a hundred times as large, to defend. Still, 
the Prussian finances have always been managed with extraordinary 
economy. The whole pay of a private is only from 2| to 3 gros- 
chen (6 to 7J cents) a day. In 1847, the clothing for every pri- 



260 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


vate soldier only averaged $7.50 for the year; and it is estimated 
that each soldier only costs the state $135 per annum for food, 
lodging and all expenses. 

Of the whole expenses of the Prussian Government, the army take 
somewhat more than forty per cent. 



CHAPTER XXYIII. 


a professor’s evening party. 

February, 1851. 

I was invited last evening to a small party at Prof.-’s. I 

went about eight o’clock, as the invitation was to tea, and found the 
company just assembling. The same plainness here, again, in the 
furnishing of the rooms, which I observe everywhere. No carpets, 
furniture light but pleasing, and pretty shows of flowers throughout. 
The writing-desk in the corner, is arched with a trellis-work of vines; 
and the deep alcoves of the windows show through the curtains, 
flowers and tropical fruit, arranged so as almost to give the effect of 
a bower. There is to be, contrary to the custom, only a little danc¬ 
ing at this party, and the most of the time shall be for conversation. 
An especial god-send too, such a company is to the Berlin young 
people; for generally the laws of society for the intercourse of 
young gentlemen and ladies, are the strictest possible. Every gen¬ 
tleman is assumed—before anything is known to the contrary—to 
be of lax principles. He cannot walk out with a lady ; he cannot 
accompany her to a meeting, a concert, or a theatre ; he must not 
see her at her own house, except in company with her mother, or 
guardian. She never goes into company, without an older relative ; 
and for her to invite any young gentleman to her house, would be 
♦be greatest breach of etiquette. The proper place for intercourse 



262 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


between the sexes, is considered to be the ball-room ; and the few 
words passed there, are usually the basis, and often the main part 
of their knowledge of one another, before the parties become more 
nearly connected. Of course, there are exceptions to this—families 
where all the free, social intercourse of American life is carried on— 
but, in general, this treating of the two sexes, as if they were morally 
dangerous to one another, is kept up through Germany. A stranger 
never suffers from such rules. He is charitably supposed to be ut¬ 
terly ignorant of them, and can break over as many as he chooses. 
I certainly transgressed them ad libitum. 

Beside many pleasant young people in the company this evening, 
there were a considerable number of scientific men. In all society, 
I think the pleasantest set, is usually the scientific. The study of 
the natural sciences seems to give a freshness and geniality to the 
mind, which no other pursuit does. Of those who meet at different 
times in the scientific circles of Berlin, there occur to me with plea¬ 
sure, the genial Mitscherlich, professor of chemistry, the Roses, 
Humboldt, who appears even yet in social circles, with all the live¬ 
liness of youth ; the brothers Schlagentweit, who, though mere 
boys, have won a European reputation from their researches in 
physical geography in the Alps; Professors Dove, and Magnus, and 
many an other. 

It is pleasant to an American to find certain of our scientific men 
spoken of and respected among these, as authorities ; Dana in 
Mineralogy, and Gray in Botany, seem as well known among the 
learned in Prussia, as in New England. Silliman, too, is everywhere 
gratefully recognized as the founder almost of natural science in our 
western continent. 

I found myself in the course of the evening, how, I forget, in easy 
conversation with a young lady, over Goethe’s “ Wahlverwand - 



OUR COMPANY. 


263 


chaften ,” or “ Instinct Affinities,” as it might be translated,—a 
novel the most dangerous possible to a weak mind. The story, it 
will be remembered, represents two married people unsuited to one 
another, but who each find the objects of their sympathies in ano¬ 
ther couple living with them. The struggles and the sorrows in 
the temptation, and the final triumph of instinct over all obligation 
and duty are most painfully pictured. I had no thought of any 
one ever defending it, as other than an exquisitely drawn picture of 
passion. But the lady, who though young is well known in Berlin 
for her genius and her noble heart, did not hesitate to say, that it 
contained its truth. Partly to draw out her meaning, I ridiculed the 
whole idea, in the strongest language. 

It was altogether striking to see the noble and free way, in which 
she roused herself to maintain the idea of the author. It was a 
delicate matter to handle; but in full, free tones, she told me we 
could not appreciate the great heart of a Goethe. He believed— 
and she believed that there was an affinity of one heart to another, 
which was above all law. God himself had created it! There are 
instincts which no one can govern. And even if the tie is not 
broken legally, there is a relationship of heart! 

“ But he would do away with the obligation of marriage; he 
would make a communism in wives !” 

“No;—he would make us more creatures of instinct, so that our 
marriages and everything may be more natural. Now are we not 
all artificial! We fear to think, or act, or feel, as our hearts prompt 
us. People who are so cold and dry, may talk of laws , but the 
men of heart do not own such laws. Goethe believed that men are 
mere shells now, and that every one feared to be himself.” 

“ But do you not believe,” said I more seriously, as I saw how 



264 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


much in earnest she was, “ that the greatest thing man can ever do, 
is to govern Passion for the sake of Duty ?” 

“No, a greater is to be able to let all passions free. If we were 
harmonious, there would be no duty and no work—all would be 

“ What, still on your electic theory,” said a friend coming up ; 
“ our practical American friend will hardly understand your loose 
philosophy—I must explain !”—The explanation the reader himself 
can make. 

I give this, though the rich tones and language which fastened it 
for many a day on my mind, are mostly forgotten, as a specimen of 
that philosophy, which has crept among many of the noblest minds 
of Europe; a philosophy which, in one aspect, I can heartily recog¬ 
nize, but which, in another, would make Passion and Selfishness the 
guides of the soul. 

In another respect, it is a specimen of what I so much like in 
European society, the free, unassailable manner, in which a refined 
lady will speak of such subjects. That universal prudery, which so 
hampers a man in America and makes him ignore half the facts of 
life, for fear of treading on some unknown delicate sensibility, is 
never seen in European circles. It is boldly assumed, what every 
one knows to be the fact, that both sexes are equally aware of a great 
variety of things, and where the allusion is natural, no one troubles 
himself about it. 

There were in our company, this evening, two who were invited 
as betrothed, and I was very much struck with their manners 
towards one another. I think in an Anglo-Saxon company, the 
feet would have been dropped out of view as much as possible, and 
certainly the slightest expression of their feelings would have been 
intensely dreaded by the parties. 



NATURALNESS. 


263 


But here there was ; the whole evening, an unconscious beautiful 
expression of affection and confidence, which really, I think, glad¬ 
dened the whole company. 

You never thought of watching them for it, but you never 
thought of anything else with them. Love seemed to speak out as 
naturally from their tones and glance and manner, as friendly feel¬ 
ing did with us. Nothing else would have seemed in place. It 
was above criticism,—above surprise even—though if any other of 
the young bachelors were like myself, they retired with a sufficiently 
vivid appreciation of the woes of bachelordom. 

I often have observed this naturalness of expression among the 
Germans. It is more apparent in the families, of course. There 
are not in all my memories, pictures so warm and glowing, as of 
some of those families in North Germany ; families where the 
look and language of Affection were not blurred by that ever¬ 
lasting formalism and coldness and selfishness which hangs over our 
households ; where love was without dissimulation, neither worn for 
duty, nor worn for effect; where mutual kindness and self-sacrifice 
and affection had so long been, that the very air and aspect seemed 
to welcome and sun the stranger. 

This habit of expression in love affairs, appears to be carried 
rather too far, sometimes. In Hamburg, it seemed to me that every 
one knew when any lady was engaged; and a broken engagement, 
or even a disappointment in love was as fair a topic for conversation 
before strangers, and as generally known as a marriage. The parties 
must evidently talk of such matters, in a way altogether averse to 
our English feeling. 

In our entertainment on this occasion, I am happy to say, there 
was no card-playing. Generally this is the universal amusement of 
12 



S66 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


the Berlin circles, especially in the mercantile and in the aristocratic 
classes. 

I sincerely hope this amusement will never become as general in 
American, as it is now in European society. Why any company of 
intelligent and social people could ever have adopted it, seems strange 
to me. It is a complete stoppage on the pleasantest enjoyment, after 
all, of life to the man of sense—conversation. Besides, we Ameri¬ 
cans should never be able to play for counters or dimes. We should 
be a nation of gamblers, inevitably. 

In one of our rooms this evening, the dance went on, most spirit 
edly. Here, as everywhere in Germany, the dance is an entirely 
different affair, from what it is with us at home. There is a life and 
spirit in it, which contrasts most pleasantly with the solemn and 
measured ceremonials in our parlors in America. For the first time, 
I gained the true idea of the dance—a musical, joyous, childlike 
expression of good spirits. 

“ What! you dance not 2” said a young lady to me, whom I knew 
well, in English, as I stood watching the merry groups. 

“ No, I never dance !” 

“ Perhaps you are from the Pietisten , who think it wrong to 
dance 2” 

“ Oh no, I like to see it very much !” 

“ Are your country people so strict as the English in dancing and 
Sabbath-keeping 2” 

I told her, I thought they were in the last, but that a great many 
good people approved of dancing. Still we did not have that dance 
among us. 

“So!”* said she. “That is one of our prettiest dances—a 

* This So! is the Indeed! of the Germans, which they always transfer to 
English, when they speak it. 



AMUSEMENTS. 


267 


Hungarian dance. See, the gentleman pfeift —what call you it? 
whistles! ” 

A Hungarian was at the piano, and he commenced a running 
accompaniment by whistling the air, which had a very enlivening 
effect. 

“ They say your people never play ; they work always ! ” said she 
again. 

“ Yes; it is too true,” I answered ; “ we make our play, work.” 

“ But we poor Germans have nothing else than play to do,” said 
she with a half-sigh. “ How should I like to see America ! The 
Nature must be grand there. But then you Americans are so praTc- 
tisch , (practical) ” 

I said, I did not think we all were; and asked her, if she had 
read the volume of Poems, (Homes’ Poems) which I had lent 
her. 

“ Oh yes! ” said she, “ I am so much obliged ! There is no other 
poetry like it. It is utterly characteristic—so fresh and original— 
and how simple ! remember you that of the old man ? ” 

“And the mossy marbles rest 
On the lips he once has pressed 
In their bloom ! ” 

“ But then so practical! No German young gentleman would 
so write to his bride, as that one who speaks of his dollars and shil¬ 
lings ; and his presents, which he shall not again have ! ” 

I could not restrain a good laugh. The poem was that one of 
Homes’— 

“ Of my cooings and my billings 
I do not now complain ; 

But the dollars and the shillings 
They will never come again! ” 



208 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


I was obliged to explain to her, that to us Americans, that was 
the very joke. 

“ Ach Gott! I see. You are a strange people !” and she took 
my arm into another room. 

“ Is it true,” she asked, as we sat down together, “ that your la¬ 
dies in America sit still in the houses, and read, and cause the hus¬ 
bands and the servants to work everything ? ” 

“ Oh, no! ” I answered; and then tried to explain to her the 
position of woman in American society. 

“ So! It is very different here. You see that lady across the 
room, very stout, with ear-rings, and light hair, that is the Frau Pro¬ 
fessor and Geheimrath S-, but she goes down every morning 

and cooks in the kitchen till eleven hour. I myself divide my house 
holding with my sister; and since six months, I have kept the ac¬ 
counts, and I go to the markets, and look the cooking every-day 
over, and brush the rooms and clarify the dishes. The netft six 
months will my sister take; and oh! will I not be glad!” 

I assured her, she would have an easier time in America in many 
circles. Yes, she was sure she would. She liked America, even 
much better than England. She had been in England, and it did 
not please her. 

I asked, why ? “Well, I was so afraid all the time. People are 
so much more strict as we. I did not dare to do anything. In 
Germany, we can act in the public places as we choose—and no 
person considers us—then we are not so stiff and cool to the stran¬ 
gers. I always so feared to be laughed in England. Then the 
English so have the spleen ! ” 

I did not agree with her about the English ; and asked her, what 
she meant by the spleen ? 

“ Why, do you not know ? The low spirit which in their bad 



ENGLISH SPLEEN. 


269 


weather comes on—the oddities, such as you Americans have not, 
nor we Germans—the spleen ! Par exemple , see you the Herr 
Englander by the table, the tall, fresh young man. We all know 
him. He is very honorable and good, and is much gebildet —I mean, 
educated. A true friend also, but so odd—so, as we in German 
say, unexplainable. He shuts himself in his room up for many days 
sometimes—then he becomes very social; then again he studies all 
the night and sleeps the day through. In the bad weather, he is 
so gloomy, that we pity him; but if we say, he is at once displeased. 
His Frau Wirth says, that he much money to the children gives ; 
but that he drinks tea infinitely, and has fourteen pairs of boots for 
winter! This is the spleen ! You understand, Herr B. ? ” 

I expressed myself entirely satisfied. 

I inquired soon in regard to the fashions in the room, whether 
they were German, most of them ? 

“ Ach , no! ” she replied ; “ it is not thought so noble to dress in 
German fashions. We borrow the French. I sometimes think we 
have nothing original, unless our musique. No one reads a German 
novel now ; and in the South, they often teach the children never 
German, only French and English—” “Will the Herr Americaner 
be good enough to take the lady out to supper,” said the hostess, 
interrupting us. 

“ Very lucky ! ” whispered my companion, as we walked into the 
supper room, “ for otherwise, we should have sat at the lower end 
among the children and stupids.” 

The soup was passed around, while I helped my lady to tea fla¬ 
vored with vanilla, with a few drops of rum. 

“ Do you know,” said I, “ you would utterly shock any of our 
tea drinkers by such a mixture as that ? ” 

“ I know it is not English,” she answered. “ You will find it 



270 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


through all Germany. We think the tea will not awaken us at 
night, if we sprinkle in rum.” 

“Is it so,” said she again, after a little while, “ that you in Ame¬ 
rica have those heavy English breakfasts with meat ? How can 
you ? It is so gross ! ” 

I defended the habit as well as I could; at the same time, making 
an insidious attack on some of the standard German dishes, espe¬ 
cially the Sauerkraut. She held up her hands in a comic astonish¬ 
ment, “ Mein Gott! Not to like Sauerkraut? Where have you 
educated ? ” 

The conversation of the table now began to turn towards me. A 
gentleman near, asked me in regard to my plans of travelling in 
Hungary in the summer. I explained them. He said, he would 
strongly dissuade me. Hungary was a very uninteresting country— 
half barbarous. There was nothing there to see. No works of 
art—no theatres—no good hotels or roads. The country had scarce 
ever been heard of till this late red republican outbreak. “ It was 
a wild, lawless insurrection, and the land has not yet recovered 
from it.” 

As the Hungarian was gone, I took up the defence of poor Hun¬ 
gary. “ I was not sure of the facts,” I said, “ but I had a different 
impression of the struggle.” I commenced in German, and then, 
waxing warm, left it for English. I described the commencement 
of that heroic struggle—pictured the old Constitution—told my 
opponent, that he and his countrymen were not prepared to appre¬ 
ciate a Constitutional struggle—and in my ardor, from the deep 
stillness at the table, began to fear I had offended the political pre¬ 
judices of some; when I was interrupted, as I stopped for breath, 
by “ Vortrefflich !” (excellent!) “ the vowels have even a clearer sound 
than ours, and the consonants are smoother. A strong language 



TALK UPON SLAVERY. 


271 


but not so clear, not so many small words in speaking, as German !” 
And I found, that my English, much more than my ideas, had been 
listened to, so I turned again to German; and it is a curious fact, 
that the speaking a foreign language varies as much, at different 
times, and depends as much on moods, as any extempore speaking. 
When under a strong flow of excitement, I could always speak good 
German. 

I spoke now in words which my opponent could not help attend¬ 
ing to, of the wrongs of that unhappy land, of its noble and rational 
struggles for freedom, of the crushing attacks of Russia, and of the 
Austrian tyranny, of whose abuses we heard each day in the 
papers. 

I could not avoid, as I was upon it, and as I knew my audience 
well, speaking sadly also of the oppression over the dear old Ger¬ 
man Fatherland. I alluded to their strict police laws ; to the open 
acts of injustice from the authorities everywhere, and mentioned 
that well known measure of injustice by which, lately, liberal edi¬ 
tors had been imprisoned and banished. I said that the times 
seemed dark in the Old World—and that we in the New looked 
with pity over to all this, and longed to right it again. I had spoken 
with very considerable feeling and the company had listened intently; 
but here I was interrupted by a gentleman whom I knew to be 
somewhat more acquainted with America, than the others. The 
words I can only imperfectly give, but the rebuke will never leave 
me. 

“ Sir,” said he, very earnestly, “ we admit that the times look dark 
here in Europe, and that there is much wrong here, but we do not 
admit the right of your country to rebuke it. There is a system 
now with you, worse than anything which we know, of tyranny— 
your Slavery. It is a disgrace and a blot on your free government 



272 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


and on a Christian state. We have nothing in Russia or Hungary 
which is so degrading, and we have nothing which so crushes the 
mind. And more than this, we hear now of a law, just passed by 
your National Assembly, •which would disgrace the cruel code of 
the Czar. We hear of free men and women, hunted like dogs over 
your mountains, and sent back, without trial, to a bondage, worse 
than our serfs have ever known. We here in Europe have many 
excuses in ancient evils and deep-laid prejudices, but you the young, 
free people, in this age, to be passing again, afresh, such measures 
of unmitigated wrong and oppression! We have not been able to 
understand it.” 

I must say that the blood tingled to my cheeks with shame as he 
spoke. 

I could say nothing in defence. I told him party-movements 
had carried this act through, which I could not understand. But, 
as to the existence of Slavery, he, like all foreigners, labored under 
a great mistake. That I, that my countrymen at the North, had 
nothing whatever to do with it. We detested it. We condemned 
it. But we, in the free States, could not reach it; we were not re¬ 
sponsible for it. And even if we were, it was a momentous and 
very difficult question, how it was to be done away. Sudden 
and complete emancipation would often be only a curse to the slave. 
I then tried to unfold our Constitutional system, the peculiar inde¬ 
pendence of our several States. 

They understood easily, and admitted there were many more 
difficulties, than they had supposed. Perhaps, unfortunately, there 
is nothing that a German understands quicker, than the evils of a 
Confederacy, where the members have their independent rights. 

The company at length rose from the table. “ You have well 
your Fatherland defended,” said my companion, as she took my 



“GUTE NACHT!” 


273 


arm into the other room, “ but perhaps you will think once more, 
before you speak so hard into German tyrannei, again! And it is 
posseeble, you may even sometime find good in the Sauerkraut ! 
Now let us shake hands, Hike so your English custom, and you have 
not yet learnt the hand to kiss! Gute Nacht /” 


12* 



CHAPTEK XXIX. 


BERLIN FETES-NEWS. 

Feb. 11,1851. 

Within the last month the city has Been enlivened by several 
brilliant fetes . First, in January, came the festival commemorating 
the origin of Prussia, as a kingdom—the 150th anniversary, and 
therefore especially celebrated. Now, there is a grand levee, which 
makes the rusty old palace gay again, in honor of the king’s taking 
up his residence in the city, for since 1848, he has not deemed his 
liebe Berlin quite safe enough for a residence, and has held his 
court in Charlottenburg, about five miles distant. 

It is the first levee which has been held in the Palace since the 
Revolution of ’48; and report says, it is the first time the queen 
has entered the building, since that terrible day when the fate of 
Marie Antoinette hung over her ; and when the shouts of the pop¬ 
ulace called her out on the balcony, to look at the ghastly corpses, 
as they were carried into the Palace-court, of those who had died 
fighting against the throne. A friend of mine, who was in front of 
the Palace the day after this, says it was a humiliating sight to 
witness the forced complaisance of the king with the crowd, shaking 
hands with the Blouses and the ragamuffins of Berlin ; and his ser¬ 
vants emptying the palace cellars to supply them with wines and 
delicacies. Of course, all this is forgotten now. Such an occasion 


LIVERIES 


275 


is almost the only one in the year which calls out the country gen¬ 
try, and we have a display of liveries, the most unique. Many of 
these worthy gentlemen have only means to appear once at court, 
and the old carriages and dresses are carefully preserved for this op¬ 
portunity. 

There are all imaginable colors of livery, and powdered and ruf¬ 
fled coachmen in the style of Louis XIV’s time, with the ponderous 
vehicle and outriders, side by side with the graceful carriage and 
simple footmen of the modern court-beau. They are pouring on 
in a continuous line to the castle gates, while the mounted police 
are keeping the way clear amid the crowd. The people are having 
great enjoyment in cracking jokes at this display of the thread-bare 
nobility. 

The Fest in January, though not more showily arranged, was to 
me much more interesting. It is difficult to realize that this power¬ 
ful kingdom has only been in existence 150 years; and that its 
brilliant history dates almost within the memory of the living. 

The name too, of Prussia, is taken from one of the rudest and 
poorest provinces in Europe. 

In 1417, Frederick, of the family of Hohen Zollernoi the Bur- 
grave of Nuremburg, bought from the German Emperor, the pro¬ 
vince, which now constitutes the centre of Prussia— Brandenburg . 
To his descendants in 1618, was conveyed by marriage the “ Duchy 
of Prussia,” a fief of Poland, and a desolate province which had 
been won and held by an Order of Teutonic Knights. The title 
of Elector of Brandenburg, was merged into that of Duke of Prus¬ 
sia ; but it was not till after the splendid victories of Frederick 
William the Great, and the spoils gained in the Peace of Westpha¬ 
lia, that Prussia was fully recognized as an independent state. It 
was at length raised to the rank of a kingdom on the 18th January 



276 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


1701, by Frederick II crowning himself as King of Prussia. It 
needed, however, sixty years before the Republic of Poland would 
deign to acknowledge its old fief, as a kingdom. 

From the peace of Westphalia, the history of Prussia has been a’ 
course of continued and skillful acquistion. Marriage, negotiation, war 
and peace, defeat and victoiy, have all alike added to its territory. 
What it has not openly plundered, it has gained by cunning bargain 
or by fortunate accident. The Saxon provinces, the Pommeranian, 
the Rhenish, the Westphalian, have all been won in these modes, 
and the histoiy of the acquisition of Prussian Poland is still fresh. 
Like many of the German States, Prussia is a disjointed country; and 
were one to judge only from present appearances, it would be natural 
to predict that another half-century anniversary would not be cele¬ 
brated by the Prussian kingdom. The inhabitants of the Rhenish 
provinces, with their warm southern blood, their popular sympathies, 
their French customs and laws, are as diverse as possible from the 
loyal and aristocratic population of Brandenburg, or the sturdy and 
often chivalric farmers of Prussia, bred up only to the old German 
ideas. And again, the proud Polish gentry of Posen, the mechanics - 
of Silesia, and the easy intellectual Saxons, form other as irrecon- 
cileable elements in the Prussian State. Free institutions would, 
we are persuaded, unite even these opposing populations. But with 
the present system of a centralized monarchy, we believe that parts 
of Prussia—especially the provinces on the Rhine—will become 
more and more alienated, and that any well-sustained attempt on 
the side of France to regain them, would, in a few years, meet {hero 
with a welcome reception. 



FAMINE. 


277 


SILESIA. 

Accounts come each day, in the papers, of the sad condition of 
one province of the kingdom, Silesia—the Ireland of Prussia. No 
description of Prussia or of recent Prussian administration, would he 
complete, without some mention of the mournful history of this 
district. 

It will be noticed on the map, that there is one point of Prussia 
protruding down between Poland and Austrian Silesia, to the south¬ 
east of Breslau; this forms the province of Upper Silesia. 

The province, it appears, is a barren country, inhabited mostly by 
weavers or small farmers, professing the Catholic faith, and kept by 
their priests in a state of great superstition and ignorance. In 1847, 
their potato crop, on which they almost entirely depended, failed; 
and their other harvests, which had been gradually growing worse, 
this year were poorer than ever. They lived much during the au¬ 
tumn on roots and poor vegetables, and meal mingled with chalk or 
stone. The winter set in with an unexampled severity—and the 
year 1848 opened on a scene of suffering and destitution in Upper 
Silesia, such as the worcl has seldom witnessed. Men wandered hag¬ 
gard and starving in the streets, grasping food where they could 
find it. Corpses lay unburied on the way-sides. Houses were 
filled with the dead, and no one knew of it. And the officers of the 
government, who forced open the doors, not unfrequently found the 
famishing wife in the arms of the husband who had been dead per¬ 
haps for days. We will not go further into the details. All that 
is disgusting, heart-sickening in human misery, was experienced by 
thousands and tens of thousands in this Prussian province. The 
Catholic clergy labored incessantly among the sufferers, and the 



278 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


“ Sisters of Charity” were known, not seldom, to have slept in the 
snow, while going about to help the starving. But all aid was of 
no avail. As the spring came on, to the horrors of famine, were 
added the raging of a fearful pestilence, caused by the unburied 
dead, and th^ foul nourishment on which the inhabitants had lived. 
The priest was swept away with the sick whom he would relieve. 
And even the immense establishments for feeding the people, erected 
by the Catholic clergy, were of little use. The whole population 
were so weakened and hopeless, that the highest wages could not 
induce them to labor, and they could hardly make the necessary 
exertion to receive the food which was offered them. The Govern¬ 
ment, for a long time, paid no attention to the complaints from the 
province; and it was only, till in some districts one-fifth, and in 
others, nearly a' half of the population, had perished, that it deigned 
to contribute its aid. 

The causes of these terrible calamities are to be sought, as in the 
so strangely similar Irish sufferings, in many sources. Dispropor¬ 
tionate taxation, division of the land into great estates, absenteeism 
of the owners, a bad government and corrupted religion, and finally, 
all these working on the character of the people, till they themselves 
became so lazy and inefficient, that no good government could save 
them. These, with sudden events in the natural world, may ac¬ 
count for that terrible famine and pestilence in Upper Silesia. As I 
said, the Romanist clergy have been working nobly there. No sect 
in Prussia was found to show such self-sacrifice, such heroism, amid 
these scenes of pestilence and death, as these Catholics showed. 

Herr Wichern , whom I mentioned in Hamburg as leading the 
operations of the “Innere Mission” has carried his indefatigable 
efforts even to this distant province. And strict Protestant though 
he be, the Catholic clergy have joined with him, and in the common 



NEWSPAPERS. 


270 


society of the “ Mission,” they are working together for this wretched 
province; their especial design now is, to establish orphan asylums, 
as there are said to be some ten thousand orphans in that country. 
The bishop has even consented to send some of his young clergy to 
Wichern’s Rauhehaus in Hamburg, for the purpose of learning his 
system in the management of such institutions. 


The news comes to us now, (February, 1851,) of a protest of 
France against Austria entering the German Confederacy with all 
her provinces. A very natural step—as any such successful move¬ 
ment on the part of Austria, secures the whole German confederated 
army in her favor—and completely frees her from all present ap 
prehension for Hungary or Italy or any of her disaffected states— 
inasmuch as a revolt in them would be a revolt against the Union 
of forty millions of Germans. France has no wish to see Austria 
thus strengthened. 

A much more interesting piece of news to me is the appearance 
of Webster’s letter to Hiilsemann, in full, in the Oonstitutionelle 
Zeitung (Constitutional Gazette) of Berlin. It is attracting great 
attention, and will be read in every coffee-house of North Germany. 

There is no greater infliction upon a newspaper-loving American, 
than the German press. No one understands, apparently, how to 
publish or how to edit a newspaper in Germany. The dailies in 
the largest cities are not one-third the size of our common country 
papers. There is seldom any good foreign correspondence, or for¬ 
eign news, little important telegraphing, few connections with dis¬ 
tant quarters, and no great talent in editorials. The advertising is 
carried on in a separate sheet often, from the reading sheet, and the 
great object of advertising lost. What news these journals contain, 



580 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


is so badly arranged and given out, that I have frequently gained a 
more distinct idea from articles in the London Times or Daily News, 
of events transpiring here, than I have from daily reading of half a 
dozen local papers. Except in the large cities, families seldom take 
newspapers; they are read in coffee-houses or club-rooms. The best 
journal, in my opinion, of Germany, is the Cologne Gazette (Kol- 
nische Zeitung )—a bold, spirited, free-spoken journal, which has 
been prosecuted twice this winter by the Prussian Government. It 
represents the liberal constitutional feeling of South Germany. The 
correspondence from abroad, and the arrangement of news, seems to 
me much superior to that of the other German journals. In Berlin, 
the organ of the Ministry now is the “ German Reform” (. Deutsche 
Reform) —a journal of fair ability, and of course, strongly conserva¬ 
tive. The National Zeitung is the democratic paper—sometimes 
permitted to speak a bold word; the Constitutionelle Zeitung is 
the leading constitutional paper of Prussia. This has occasionally 
articles of much spirit, but is usually too heavy. It takes the mid¬ 
dle ground now between the Democratic and Governmental party, 
and has been strongly for war. There is also a German Punch in Ber¬ 
lin (Kladderadatsch), whose principal characteristic, is its unbounded 
impudence. 

In Hamburg, the Nachrichten has a good circulation, though by 
no means remarkable for genius. In Southern and Austrian Ger¬ 
many the Allgemeine Zeitung (Universal Gazette) of Augsburg, 
has long had the greatest influence. This has been a very able 
journal, and for statistical and scientific articles, scarcely surpassed 
in Europe. Now, however, it is conducted in deadly fear of the 
Austrian or German police, and has lost much of its life. 

The best paper of Vienna is not the most liberal—the Lloyd's. 
The editors write under the eyes of that accursed detective police. 



THE TIMES. 


281 


and of course, can say little to any purpose. They have been per¬ 
mitted to speak in financial matters, and there they have uttered 
new and bold truths. 

American papers are seldom seen in Germany. The Times, of 
England, and that most non-committal and prudential journal, the 
Galignani of Paris, are everywhere. What American will ever 
forget their really home-like look in the German cafes ? How often, 
wearied by the strange streets outside, or by the foreign gossip 
within, have I settled myself down over their columns, as if for a 
chat with a countryman, just from home! 

The influence of the Times throughout Europe, is wonderful, and 
one of its strong, practical, carefully-prepared “ leaders” makes almost 
as strong a sensation in Germany as it does in London. The Times 
represents the great common sense of England more than any other 
paper; and it is these practical articles of it, penetrating into the 
bombast and idealizing which cover these German affairs, that give 
it such an influence—or at least make it so feared by the leaders of 
the parties. 



CHAPTER XXX. 


A VISIT TO THE CHAMBERS. 

“ What do yoi say to making a call upon our Prussian Cham 
bers ? ” said a friend to me one morning, as we were chatting in my 
room over the morning coffee. “ An acquaintance of mine, one of 
the members, has offered me a ticket, and we can get it as we go 
along.” 

I assured him, I should like nothing better; and we at once sal¬ 
lied out, to be in time for a good seat. 

My companion was a young merchant of some property, and an 
ardent, almost violent Democrat. We usually had a great deal of 
discussion together—agreeing very well in the main principles, but 
differing on detail; I finding him somewhat ultra and unpractical, 
and he me a little tainted with the “ verdammte Reaction ,” as they 
call the conservative tendencies. 

“ There are some of those accursed soldiers again! ” said he, as 
we came upon a company drilling in the fine avenue “ under the 
Lindens ; ” “ and the old ‘ Haudegen * (Slasher) at the head, I be¬ 
lieve. Think of him for our next King ! ” 

It was the Prince of Prussia, the King’s brother, a heavy-looking, 
stout soldier, who was cantering up and down the line with a few 
staff-officers. 


A “RED” 


283 


“ Tell me,” said I; “ these soldiers are quartered on you, are they 
not, whether you will or no ? ” 

“Yes,” he replied, “ there were two of them put upon me last 
month ; and I on]y got rid of them by paying their Kosten else¬ 
where. I hope as a citizen of Prussia, I should always be willing to 
support our brave army, if they were fighting for the people or 
the country. But now I know, they are nothing but tools of the 
King!” 

“ I hear,” said I, as we passed the position of the staff, “ very fa¬ 
vorable accounts of the Prince’s son. Those who know him well, 
tell me he is far superior to his old father. A very honest and 
good-hearted young man, with high purposes to benefit the nation, 
they say. He may make you a good King! ” 

“ No; it is impossible,” said he, “ the whole kith and kin are ut¬ 
terly unreliable. You cannot trust them ; and the best thing for 
Germany would be to take off the heads of the whole brood! ” 

I laughed at his excitement; and asked whether he would not, at 
least, acknowledge that the present king and his nephew, (the heir 
presumptive) were religious men ; and were trying to spread abroad 
religious influence. 

“ No ; ” he answered, “ it is not so. You mustn’t get your views 
from those Pietisten. All the religion they care about, is to have 
a State Church. See what the old King did—trying to make us 
religious and belong to his church with the bayonet. And then 
take this reign. That old hypocritical tyrant, Eichhorn, (one of the 
State ministers) tried for years to choke all thought-freedom— 
and would not even appoint a school-teacher, unless he was an 
orthodox! The King has broken every promise he ever made 
to our people. It was not till four yearn ago, that we had the first 
shadow of a Constitution, though his father promised it, in 1815; 



284 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


and now our “ allergnddiste ,” (most all gracious) breaks it every* 
day. His piety is to pay preachers to delude the people! ” 

“ What! ” said I, “ do you think all the preachers hypocrites 
too ? ” 

“ Oh no; not that. But they are paid by the King, and are 
naturally influenced by him ; and they preach to please him. Who 
ever heard a word from them against tyranny, or for the oppressed, 
or for the victims all through Germany to these execrable princes ? 
When did they ever speak for poor Cassel, or Holstein ? They talk 
often enough of the ‘ Obrigkeiten ,’ (the authorities) and the godless 
Socialism—and these impious attacks on religion and government; 
but who ever heard a free word from them ? I don’t believe in such 
religion ! I would rather have Infidelity ! We must sweep away 
kings and preachers, before we can be free ! ” 

I told him, I agreed with him as to the public teachings of these 
men, though I liked them personally, and thought them very self- 
denying and good men. “It all comes,” said I, “from your State 
Church. You must have a free voluntary church; and then you 
won’t confuse religion, and the abuses of government together! ” 

“ But look ! ” said I again, as we passed the bridge of the canal, 
“ there’s a specimen of your German practicality—-just like what 
you are doing in Constitutions—six men doing the work of one, and 
all hindering one another! ” The six men were engaged with poles 
and ropes, in pulling open the gates of the lock, a work which ono 
Yankee would easily do with a lever. 

He laughed, and admitted it; and we turned soon into the alley 
of the post-office, as it was hardly time for going to the Chambers. 
“ You send passengers as well as letters by post ? ” said I, as we en¬ 
tered the court-yard, full of coaches, just ready for starting. 



AN INCIDENT. 


285 


“ Certainly. Everything—mail-coaches, rail-roads, telegraphs, are 
government property here.” 

As we walked down the narrow street from the Post-office to¬ 
wards the large bridge, my companion showed me with ardor the 
different points, where the people had forced the soldiers back in the 
Revolution of ’48, till they retreated across the bridge to the 
castle. 

“ You see that corner house there ! ” said he. “ Our people did 
almost the only violent thing, which was done in those days, on that 
building. There was a wretch of an officer lived there, who shel¬ 
tered some of the soldiers-as they hurried down the street, and let 
them fire on the crowd from the windows. When we reached there, 
the fellows were on his story in a moment—the doors broken 
through—and out came through the windows the fine mirrors, the 
pictures, the chairs, every possible article; and a great heap was 
made for a bonfire below. They were beginning at one room, 
when the servant-maid rushed in, and said it was hers; and not one 
article was touched ! I had gone off at a little distance at the time, 
but I remember now of seeing one poor fellow tumbled into the 
heap ; and then beaten and flogged by the crowd, with everything 
tney could lay their hands on. It seems, he was one of their own 
number, who was caught thieving ! ” 

We now made our way to the “ Chambers,” and after presenting 
our tickets, took a good seat, near the diplomatic benches, in the 
gallery. The House would not meet for some half-hour yet, and 
we had time enough to look about. The appearance of the build¬ 
ing outside and in, was not at all remarkable. The hall, where wc 
were, was of oblong shape, with various galleries, a curtained box 
for the royal family, a slight desk and stage for the speaker, and 
seats for three or four hundred members. There was no very rich 



286 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


furniture, yet all neat and cheerful, and well-kept, and altogether, a 
much more comfortable hall of legislation, than the English Hall 
for the Commons, which I visited last year. 

“ There’s Vincke ! Do you see him ?” said my companion, “ the 
stout man in a snuff-colored frock-coat, with a rather important air> 
here in front! He’s the leader of the opposition now, was one of 
the old Constitutionalists. You saw his speech the other day, the 
best we have had this session— tremendous cuts on Manteuffel!” 

“ And there comes der Teufel selbst, (the devil himself!)” It 
was the Prime Minister, Manteuffel , who entered by a side door, 
followed by a page, bearing his port-folio. He took his seat on a 
little raised platform, behind a long desk—the ministerial benches— 
and quietly received the members who came up to pay their 
respects. A little and insignificant man he is, except in the outline 
of his head, which shows decided intellectual power. His face has an 
expression of much shrewdness. This man guides now the destinies 
of Prussia, and probably will for years to come.' He has ousted the 
military Radowitz, has adopted the pacific and cringing policy—and 
avoiding war, he has managed, even while yielding to Austria, to 
strengthen the material interests of Prussia. Whether all the ter¬ 
giversations of his administration are to be laid to him, is doubt¬ 
ful. He has a difficult master—and it must need great skill to 
adapt his policy to the ever-changing tendencies of Frederick Wil¬ 
liam. 

Among the crowd, I was pointed out Beckerath, Camphausen, 
Count Schwerin, Prof. Tellkampf, and many other eminent members 
of the Liberal party. 

Prof. Tellkampf is well known in America. He has distin¬ 
guished himself this winter, in all constitutional discussions and de- 



PRUSSIAN COMMONS. 


287 


bates on points of order, by his minute knowledge. His acquaint¬ 
ance with the American and English Constitutions is very exact, and 
stands him in good stead. 

The house was at length called to order, and the members took 
their seats ; those on the right being occupied by the friends of the 
ministry and those on the left, by the opposition. The members do 
not wear their hats like the members of the English Parliament; 
and in general have not so independent and careless an aspect, but 
seem more like a company of gentlemanly well-fed office-holders, as 
in fact, most of them are. 

The discussion opened on the late Press-ordinance, enacted, as I 
have before explained, by the ministry in an illegal manner, while 
the Chambers were not in session, and completely cutting off in its 
workings, liberty of the press. 

The discussion was rather spirited, though in general, the speak¬ 
ing was awkward and uneasy. Von Vincke made a short speech 
which was listened to with marked attention. He has all the ease 
and force of our best orators, and must be a very effective speaker, 
I should think, when thoroughly aroused. 

The Ministerial party defended the Ordinance as a temporary 
measure, and made the usual objections to the license of the press. 
The Opposition attacked it, especially on the ground of its arbitrary 
character, and defended free speech, and urged the old promises 
and the guarantees of the Constitution for Freedom of the Press. 

There was nothing new to an American in the discussion, except 
the fact that any members of a Constitutional Parliament could be 
found, to defend a measure, so obviously unjust and arbitrary. 

This is the second Chamber, or Lower House. It dates its pecu¬ 
liar formation to the constitution given last year (Jan. 31, 1850). 
The members number 350. They are chosen by electoral colleges, 



28S 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


made up of electors from certain fixed districts, or certain cities, 
numbering at least 10,000 inhabitants. The qualifications for a 
member are that he should be thirty years of age, in full possession 
of civil rights, and a. resident of Prussia three years. For a voter, 
the conditions are a residence of one year in his parish, property to 
the amount of one hundred Thalers, (about $75,) or a payment of 
the parish taxes, and at least two Thalers of direct taxes; and fur¬ 
thermore that he should be of a sane mind, and twenty-five years 
of age. Apparently a very liberal basis of suffrage. 

The First Chamber is composed of the princes of the blood, and 
of certain members of ancient princely families; of members nom¬ 
inated by royal order, whose number shall never exceed one-tenth 
of those chosen by the people; and of- the regular representatives 
from the nation. Of these last, sixty are chosen by two hundred 
large landed proprietors in each province ; thirty-eight by the com¬ 
mon councils of the large cities, and six by the professors of each 
of the six universities. 

After some time, spent in listening to the closing speeches on the 
debate, which grew more and more dull, my friend and myself left 
the hall, and I accompanied him to his house, for a lunch after the 
long fast. “ The worst of it all is,” said he, as we walked along, 
“ there is such a quantity of office-holders among them. The 
Constitution reads well enough, but it says nothing about three- 
quarters of the members being in the pay of the Government. We 
can carry no liberal bill through, of course. 

“ Then we have no good hold on the king, by the purse-strings, 
as you have in England. To be sure, the Chambers have a nomi¬ 
nal control of the budget—but die duramen !—(the stupids !)—they 
don’t know what it’s worth, nor how to keep it. Oh die Deutsche 
Gutrauthigkeit! the German good nature, it is infinite!” 



A DEMOCRAT. 


I spoke of my pleasure in Vincke’s bearing and words. “ Yes,” 
said be, “ be and tbe old Gotba party (tbe Constitutionalists) are 
trying all they can to undo wbat they did in ’48 and ’49. But we 
Democrats do not care for them. They defeated us then and 
brought back the Reaction, by their accursed theories. If there is 
another Revolution, we shall soon sweep them from the board ! 
The only hope for Germany now is in unlimited Democracy. 
These half-men are not the men for the times!” 

I expressed my disagreement; that these men seemed to me 
rational liberalists, who thought the people unfit for a Republic, and 
would give them what they could bear. They wanted a free consti¬ 
tutional government like the English. I told him I did not like to 
see parties separated, as they were now in Prussia. “ The Demo¬ 
crat and the Constitutionalist ought to unite, to gain the best form 
of government possible under the circumstances.” 

“ What! you a Republican, advocating these courses ! You have 
learned this from your conservative friends here. Did you know 
that that Constitutional party ruined Germany, when they had 
everything in their own hands ? They can’t save us. It is too late. 
We have tried gentle measures long enough. No—to the devil 
with them all! A Republic for us!—Universal suffrage!—Free 
speech!—No State Church, and a chance for social reform again! 
This is the Democratic doctrine! You think me, perhaps, too 
much excited and unreasonable. But you have not been here! 
You have not seen all Germany buy its liberties with blood, and 
then entrust them to these scholars. You have not seen us wait 
and hope and pray, always believing that these great, learned men 
would work us out something, and then, at last, to find, that they 
were only engaged over their own selfish theories and hobbies! To 
&0 13 



£90 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY 


forget this great crushed people in their damned professorial quib- 
blings !—But here we are—come in, and we’ll take a bite!” 

We went in, and were soon over a very good cold joint, an ex¬ 
cellent German Wurst , some unnameable pickles, and a flask of 
wine. After a busy engagement with the eatables for a few minutes^ 
to stay our appetite, I went on to tell him, that we, in America, did 
not believe in that kind of Democracy. We believed in bestowing 
on a people what they were fit for, and in educating them always 
for the highest freedom. That our liberty was not the product of a 
moment, or a year—it was the fruit of generations of political habit 
and training. “ You do not know our system,” said I, “ though the 
best explication of it ever made was by a foreigner, De Toc- 
queville— 

“ Ach yes—I have read him. But take a glass of wine before 
vou begin your argument. It is the Cap-wine f' a very peculiar 
^vine ; I think you never saw it; sweet as Tokay.” 

“ No, thank you, not this morning. As I said, or meant to say > 
this is a most thorough system of political training with us. Every 
village and district and state, is a distinct political school; the one 
represented often in the other, and each fitting for the other, so that 
the boy, and then the man, gets a constant training, through life, 
in practical politics. Our municipal constitution, as you call—” 

“ I see,” said he, “ it is precisely what Stein meant to found here 
in 1808, and a whole-souled man he was, even if no Democrat! 
But you are neglecting the joint; allow me l” 

“ Well,” said I, “ our principle is this ;” and I entered on a long 
explanation of the American Constitution, showing its wonderful in¬ 
fluence in political education. I then told him, that for one I should 
hope more from seeing that or a similar municipal constitution 

* Wine from the Cape of Good Hope, occasionally hank as a COTdial in 
North Germany; a sweet, pulpy wine. 



DEMOCRATIC CREED. 


291 


planted in Prussia, than from the most successful revolution. “Not 
but that a revolution would be preferable to your present oppressions 
—but the only lasting liberty, I am persuaded, must spring- from 
such institutions.” 

“ I think you are right; but, mein lieber , we have tried all that. 
We had an excellent municipal constitution promised us, and then 
made out last year. But, Ich bitte—beg your pardon—light a 
cigar—they are the best Hamburger, though of course not equal to 
your American. When you get back to your rooms, just look in 
those documents you are poring over, and you will find that a Con¬ 
stitution very like the one you have sketched, was published last 
year. And now, where is it ? The ‘ all-graciousest king’ reigns by 
the grace of God, and he never will suffer a piece of paper to come 
between him and his beloved subjects. He keeps it in his pocket. 
(He referred in these words, to an expression used by the king, in 
one of his speeches to the Chambers.) No, mein Herr Republicaner, 
there is no use! You would be a Democrat, if you were*here. 
There is nothing to do with this Gesindel (rabble) but to get rid of 
it! Our German Volk will bear long, but not always. You can 
have no idea of the petty oppressions over the lower classes. All 
associations forbidden; even an evening party was broken up lately, 
because the dancers were Democrats and the Gasthaus was a 
liberal house. The only free sects we had, the German Catholics— 
your friends, the T.’s, belonged to them, you know—are declared 
illegal. And now we cannot own a house or peddle cigars, without 

being confirmed in that-State Church. Pardon me—but it is 

enough to make a man excited !” 

I asked him, after some farther discussion, in regard to the first 
Chamber, and the nobles, whether they were of much account. 

“ No,” he said, “ they were not. No one cared for them, or re- 





29 2 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


spected them especially. They have not wealth or talent enough to 
give them influence. They make up fine liveries and carriages for 
the king on the Fest days, but the people scarcely know any one by 
name. The king has a pet-theory that he must be surrounded with 
a chivalric corps of peers. He has tried a great deal to build up a 
House of Lords, as in England, but without success, Gott sei Dank!” 
(God be thanked!) 

“So,” said he at length, as I rose, “you must go . . . Well; 
leben Sie recht wohl! and may your Fatherland never come to be 
like our poor Germany—the Reaction or the Revolution to choose 
between. Adieu.” 


The constitutional history of Prussia only dates four years back. 
The father of the present king had promised in the universal enthu¬ 
siasm of Prussia in 1815, to bestow a constitution on the kingdom. 
The^gift was delayed from year to year, by various pretexts, and at 
length the old king died. At the accession of the present king, in 
1840, all parties confidently awaited the long-promised instrument. 
It was still withheld; and it was only till the increasing discontent 
of the people almost made it necessary, that it was finally given (in 
1847.) The constitution then bestowed was framed after the feudal 
and chivalric principles, so favored by the king, and did not at all 
suit the present condition of Prussia. The Parliament was made 
up of the eight Provincial Assemblies, and the representatives of 
classes, and did not represent the people. The king evidently had 
qo plan of founding a constitutional monarchy, but rather of estab¬ 
lishing a feudal rule, which should rest on the loyalty, as well as 
the mutual antagonism of various ranks in the state. 

This Constitution soon gave place to another in 1848, and then 



CONSTITUTIONS. 


again, after further changes, to the Charter of 1850. Orer this, 
there were long discussions between the King and Parliament. He 
was urgent to carry out his favorite plan of a hereditary peerage, and 
to make perpetual the feudal fiefs held nominally in the kingdom. 

The Chambers were equally opposed to both of these aristocratic 
measures. 

The king, at length, yielded on the fiefs; and compromised the 
question of the peerage, by consenting to postpone the nomination 
of the Lords, till August, 1852. By this Constitution, the present 
Chambers were granted ; and the law, establishing the responsibility 
of the ministers. 

The King in bestowing it, still made a reservation for his much 
loved theories of regal right. 

In the course of a characteristic and eloquent speech to the Cham¬ 
bers, he said, “ in Prussia, the King alone must govern. And I 
govern, not because it is my pleasure, God knows! but because it 
is God’s ordinance. Therefore, also, I will govern ! ” 

The Constitution was well received ; the only exception being the 
disposition of the Poles in Posen towards it. They demanded a 
distinct provincial organization to their province, incorporated since 
1848, in Prussia ; and not obtaining it, their deputies retired from 
the Chambers. The most important portion of the Constitution was, 
probably, that relating to the municipal regulations; published in 
two distinct laws, March 11, 1850; but never yet carried out into 
practice. 

These are worth considering briefly, as constituting the best possi¬ 
ble political reform, if they ever are realized. 

The laws relating to the reform of city governments date as far 
back as 1808—those establishing legislatures in the Provinces, to 
1823 The difficulty thus far with all these measures, had been, 



294 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


that they rested too much on the feudal basis, and threw the power 
into the hands of the country gentry. According to the new law, the 
government, in the first place, of the parishes ( Gemeinde ) is left with 
the people. Every native-born Prussian, aged 25 years, and possess¬ 
ing property to the amount of $75, or paying the parish taxes together 
with $1.50 of direct taxes, is a voter. The administration of the pa¬ 
rish is committed to the common council, ( Gemeinde-raih ) elected 
by the people. This, in parishes of from 1,500 to 2,500 inhabitants, 
numbers twelve members ; in towns of from 90,000 to 120,000, 
sixty members. Beyond 120,000, the allotment is six for every 
50,000. The qualification for this body is determined by property— 
half the members being landed proprietors. The session lasts six 
years, and is always public. The Council chooses the board of al¬ 
dermen, ( Gemeinde-obrigkeit ) who administer the executive autho-- 
rity, and whose number vary according to the population. The 
parish has the power of changing its own internal government, by a 
particular statute, subject to the approval of the council of the can¬ 
ton, ( Kreise ). In the smaller parishes, more power is given t> the 
lords of the manor. 

Previous to these laws, as I have before said, the influence was 
entirely in the hands of the nobility—this was especially the case in 
the provincial Legislatures. By the new laws, the deputies to these 
bodies are chosen by the assemblies of the cantons, (Kreisen). 
Every person is qualified to be a member, who has owned property 
within his district for three years, or who is engaged in a profession, 
and aged thirty years. Every canton sends a deputy, if the popu¬ 
lation be below 60,000; if above, two; and one for every 50,000 
beyond. The Session is six years, and is nublic. These “ State 
Legislatures ” are at the head of the internal administration of Prus¬ 
sia. The royal power is represented with them by a Lord Lieu- 



STATE ASSEMBLIES. 


205 


tenant, ( Ober-praesident) who is obliged to present every year, a 
report on the administrative condition of the province. 

These Legislatures, in some provinces, have given the King al¬ 
ready much trouble, and very probably will much more. The fiery, 
liberty-loving deputies in the Rhine Assembly, the independent 
Poles in the Assembly of Posen, and the sturdy farmers and land- 
owners in the Province of Prussia, who are not forgetful that they 
form the kernel of the kingdom—have all spoken bold words these 
last few years against the encroachments of regal power. The Le¬ 
gislature of Brandenburg feels too much the influence of the court, 
and along with that of Pommerania, has distinguished itself by its 
cringing and servile attitude. The Saxon Assembly has been some¬ 
what bolder; but the Silesian and the Westphalian again have 
shown the “ reactionary ” tendency. 

Under this State government, (of the Provinz) come the govern¬ 
ments of the districts, ( Bezirlc ) and of the cantons, ( Kreise ). That 
of the districts appears to have only a minor importance. The can¬ 
tons hold the principal administration, after the-States or Provinces ; 
and are in many respects, almost independent of the central power. 
Their administrative bodies are elected by representatives chosen by 
the parishes, ( Gemeinden ); and the qualifications for membership, are 
a house or other property within the canton, and the payment of 
the class-tax, (about $6); if the property lies beyond the canton, the 
candidate must possess an estate worth 5,000 Thalers, or have an 
income of 500 Thalers. In addition, he must be thirty years of 
age. 

The especial office of these Canton assemblies is the division ot 
taxes. They meet, also, for six years, and renew themselves every 
two vears by a third. As they are elected by representatives from 
,he parishes, their basis is equally popular, with that of the parishes. 



296 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


The crown is represented in these bodies, by a provincial council¬ 
lor, { Landrath ) who must be heard whenever he demands it. 

It will be seen from this brief sketch, that this new municipal 
Constitution is of a very popular nature, and though possibly a lit¬ 
tle cumbersome, is eminently adapted to train the people. It would 
give them, what all their schools and universities and learned men 
do not —'political education. 

In the various councils of parish and canton and district, in the 
large and stormy Assemblies of the Province, in the thousand little 
offices, executive and financial, which the Constitution creates, each 
man would gain a familiarity with political principles. The 
great defect, which appears now in all the German political enter¬ 
prises, a want of skill in the details of politics—would in a few 
years, be very much removed by such a system. The Prussian 
peasant would get the idea thoroughly infused into him—of a self- 
administered government. He would come more and more to trust 
in the ballot-box, and not in the bayonet, for political reforms, 
and in time, we might hope that, like the Englishman or 
American, he would be a supporter and advocate of Self-Govern¬ 
ment, almost from instinct. In respect to such a system, I should 
say, what I said to my friend, that “ I would hope more from 
its adoption for Freedom, than from all the Revolutions of a cen¬ 
tury.” 


CHAPTER XXXI. 


A SUNDAY IN GERMANY. 

My landlady came in this morning with my coffee, unusually 
neatly dressed, “ Herr B., you must hurry! you will not be ready 
for the Domkirche (Cathedral) 1” 

“ Why, what is there, this morning ?” 

“ Did you not know ? This is Lent, and we have not been to 
the theatre the whole week, and I have cooked puddings every day, 
and now there will be some beautiful music for the king, at 8 o’clock! 
Are you not Christians in America ?” 

“ I thought you said you never went to church!” 

“I do not usually; but now one must go for the sake of the lit* 
tie ones, and then you know, no one stays away in Lent!” 

u Do you like Prediger Nitsch, as well as you used to ?” said I, 
after a little further conversation. 

“ Yes, I do like him, but I find it hard to understand him. He 
seems to me the only honest one. Perhaps it isn’t so, in America, 
Herr B., but you know here, the preachers do not believe what 
they say, and we all know, they do not care for us common 
people.” 

I told her I found many of them very good men indeed, and 
13* 


298 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


doing much for the poor; “ but what makes you think they do not 
believe what they say ?” 

“How can they ? You will pardon me, for perhaps you believe 
so, but how can they believe that miracles ever happened. Why 
should we not have them now ? And then who supposes God 
would have created us poor sinners just to be miserable always, after 
we die ? I do not often speak of these things, mein Herr, espe¬ 
cially before the children, but I do not believe in the God of the 
Pietisten. I have done very many foolish things, and I was a gay 
pretty young girl once, though you would’nt think it now; but if 
I should die now, I should have no fear. Perhaps that will be all 
of me—the dear God knows best; one thing I am sure of, He will 
treat me kinder than I would treat my dear little ones. I always 
remember what Schleiermacher said once in a funeral of a child, 
here, ‘ There is hope of a tree, that if it be cut dowrn, it will sprout 
again, but man dieth, and where is he ? Yet one thing we are cer¬ 
tain of, the little one and we, are in the hands of the All-Merciful, 
and whether we shall exist or not, it shall be well with us!’ I think 
so also, Herr B!” 

This speech of Schleiermacher, I have often heard from others be¬ 
side my landlady, so that there is probably some foundation for it; 
still it must have been uttered very early, as his later writings show 
an unwavering faith in Immortality. Our conversation I will not 
follow further; it was soon interrupted by the summons to the 
church. It was a bright, peaceful winter-like morning, as I stepped 
out, the fresh snow over everything, and the spires and towers of 
Berlin, standing up cold and distinct against the clear sky. Cheer¬ 
ful parties were returning from the morning concerts held in the 
coffee-houses out of the city, all hastening towards the Cathedral. 
These Sunday concerts, I understand, are to be forbidden in future, 



CATHEDRAL SERVICE. 


209 


by the government, which is determined to have Sunday more 
strictly observed. 

The walls, as usual, are all covered with placards of the grand 
entertainments for this evening; though, it being Lent, the King’s 
theatre will be'closed. There is much excitement, apparently, about 
one play which is to come off to-night —Julius Ccesar —as only 
last week an opera not nearly so democratic in its sentiments, was 
forbidden, and the crowd expect the police will interfere in this. 

No one seemed to have any private seat in the Cathedral, and I 
took a good one in front. It was very cold and damp in the build¬ 
ing. The soldiers crowded in so thickly, that very many stood 
up, but there was no disorder. At length the king entered the gal¬ 
lery dressed in his usual blue overcoat, with only one officer in at¬ 
tendance. The service at once began with a chant, and then a 
young man in a gown, apparently a Candidat or theological stu¬ 
dent, stepped forward on a low platform, and read the service, while 
the responses were made by the choir. He read appropriately, yet 
with deep feeling of the great wants and sorrows of the human 
soul, of its infinite needs, its essential weakness, its dependence, and 
its love for the Highest One, and the music answeredin tones of 
more than earthly sorrow, or of repentance, or joy, or hope. It 
was a sublime service, as given in that crowded Cathedral, with the 
best trained choir, perhaps, of Europe. I never hear a good litur¬ 
gical service in any church, without being conscious of how bare is 
the simple fol’m to which I have been accustomed at home. From 
a man of real life and feeling, prayers of the heart are beyond all 
forms and liturgies. But how seldom is he to be found! How 
much of our present church prayer, is the most utter and monotonous 
form and repetition, without the advantage of its being a repetition 



300 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


selected by the best taste, and hallowed by the associations of many 
centuries. Would that some new service might be framed, where 
the prayers of the moment, of the heart’s feeling, might be mingled 
with prayers, culled from the Bible and from the best aspirations of 
the holy men of the past. 

Our preacher was one of the regular chaplains, and appeared to 
view in a high box or pulpit, in another part of the building. He 
opened with a short introduction, then read his text, and then 
preached from memory. The sermon was a quaint one, upon the 
subject of Sampson's life , the object being to draw an analogy be¬ 
tween the history of Prussia and the experiences of Sampson! 
The contamination of the people by French influence under Frede¬ 
rick the Great; the merging of their own morals and taste into the 
French, and the subsequent degeneration, and disgrace under the 
French rule, was found pictured in the sinful intercourse of Samp¬ 
son with the heathen. “ He took a wife from the Philistines.” 
His principles were injured and his strength weakened by this union, 
and he fell utterly into their hands. Still, through it all, he re¬ 
tained his faith in God, and this, at length, wrought out his salva¬ 
tion. So with their dear Fatherland. Through all those years of 
weakness and dishonor, she still held, in some degree, to the Faith, 
and when finally, she was delivered, it was because Infidelity and 
French sensuality were repented of, and the people believed in God 
again. Sampson, still later, fell into the hands of the Philistines, 
and again, through his intercourse with the Philistine harlot. So 
with Prussia. She will not keep herself from the Delilah of French 
infidelity, and socialism, and falsely-called Freedom. Again, like 
Sampson, she has fallen in these late days of the Revolution, into 
the hands of the Philistines, and “ who shall say, whether she shall 
escape, like the Jewish leader, only by her own ruin ? “ Heine go- 



A SERMON. 


3U 


liebten !—beloved! these are dark days for Prussia ! A godless, 
heathenish spirit is abroad. Men are seeking to uproot all Law and 
Religion ! They cry Liberty, but they are really seeking license, 
indulgence. The people do not believe on a God, they do not re¬ 
spect their lawful rulers. They revile the church. See the excesses 
of the Revolution, and see here, what they have resulted in. Look 
at these outbreaks in Hesse-Cassel and in other parts of Germany. 
Blood and disorder, and irreligion, are the fruits. These are what 
the Socialists, the Revolutionists, and all who are stirring up the 
ignorant crowd, seek. No, to have true liberty, we must return to 
the Faith of our Fathers, we must learn to honor our rulers, we 
must attend to the instructions of the clergy. In every way, we 
must be separate from this French Delilah—the Socialism and Un¬ 
belief—then only will strength return unto our poor Fatherland !” 

The sermon was listened to with profound attention, and was 
really eloquent in many passages. It was followed by a hymn and 
short prayer, and the congregation broke up. 

As I was walking home, I was joined by a young gentleman, an 
acquaintance, who is at the head of a manufacturing business of 
some extent; not a man of University education, but of quick in¬ 
telligence. We spoke of the sermon, and its quaint analogies, and 
at length he said, “ I do not know how you feel, Mr. B., but such 
sermons sicken me of the Bible !” 

I told him I detested them. 

“ There was not one generous or noble word,” said he, again, “ in 
the speech for these millions of poor, oppressed men in Germany. 
He spoke as if the whole of these immense wrongs rested on the 
ignorant and degraded people. He did not even mention the pro¬ 
mises which have been broken over and over by these princes; nor 
the deception and injustice practised so long by our rulers. Who 



302 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


has made the people degraded ? Who keeps them so ? One 
would think from him that the masses had no rights.” 

“ And that allusion to Cassel,” said I, “ seemed to me base, and 
ungenerous and false.” 

“ I am glad you think so. But these things are what we hear all 
the while. There has not been a wrong or an act of tyranny these 
last ten years, which these men have not supported from the Bible. 
And, for my part, I have come to abhor much of the Bible. If it 
upholds a system like this, I shall not wish to know more of it.” 

I told him I was sorry he felt so about the Bible. To me, its 
spirit seemed to be the very spirit of liberty, and for myself, the 
highest aspirations I had ever had of human freedom, I believed 
prompted by it. My most ideal dreams, I said, of what humanity 
might at length attain to—the highest possible perfection to which 
society could progress—were always only the realizing of the simple 
words of Jesus. This has always been to me, said I, the proof of 
the divine origin of Christianity, much more than miracles or his 
toric evidence. 

He acknowledged this was true of the New Testament, but the 
Old, which these preachers used so much, “ How did that answer 
my conceptions of progress ?” 

I told him that I looked on it, in the main, as a history of the 
first development of the race, where complete growth was not to be 
expected. “ Yet, even there,” said I, “ I find ideas and pictures of 
human progress, far beyond that age or any age since. That grand 
Future of Justice and Love for mankind, which Isaiah paints, is be¬ 
yond even our highest theories. Yes, and nothing to me so com¬ 
pletely foreshows what the purest of your patriots in Europe might 
feel. Kossuth, for instance—” 

“ Kossuth is no Democrat!” 



’INFIDELITY. 


303 


“ Well, any who hate oppression and long for liberty. Nothing, 
I say, so sounds like what they ought to speak, as the words of 
these Jewish prophets—that passionate love for their country, 
through all the dark days of oppression—that hope irrepressible of 
liberty for their native land, and thus for the world, and the belief 
never to be shaken in the God of justice, and in a happy Future for 
humanity. Is not all this fully equal to the spirit of our nineteenth 
century ? Isn’t it a great way beyond your cowardly German faith 
in progress ?” 

He confessed it had never struck him quite in that light. “ But,” 
said he, “I cannot escape my early prejudices. I do not desire to 
disbelieve. I sincerely long for some support to faith, but, as I have 
little time to study, ray impressions of the Bible are mostly taken 
from the teachings of these men. And now I cannot separate them 
from their arguments for tyranny and injustice. I know it is not 
reasonable ; possibly it would not have been so, if I had been brought 
up in America; but now the Bible seems to me an instrument of 
priestcraft. My first emotion towards it, as I see these tremendous 
wrongs among my poor people, is almost of indignation. And I 
find many of my workmen have the same feeling, or if they have 
not consciously, it affects them, and they prefer beer-drinking to 
hearing such things. I always argue against them, when they say 
anything, yet I must confess to thoughts of the same kind.” 

I told him I was very sorry that he should have been forced to 
such a view of the Bible, but that he must leave these (to him) 
“ blind guides,” and study for himself. I thought our American 
Liberty was planted on the Bible, and if he would only look, he 
would, see that the spirit of Christ everywhere is the spirit of 
liberty. 

Such are the views I hear throughout Germany, from the honest- 



304 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


minded anl the earnest; the seekers for truth and lovers of free¬ 
dom. I respect the Protestant clergy of Germany; they are, in 
general, self-denying, laborious men, who have certainly not entered 
on their profession with any motives of selfish advancement or ease. 
But I cannot avoid seeing that they are losing their hold on the 
heart of the people. Their connection with the State, their associa¬ 
tions, their education, unite them to the upper, not to the lower 
classes. They do not sympathize with the people. They are not 
“ with the age,” and the age will leave them. 

When the next Revolution comes in Germany, as come it will, 
woe to the Protestant clergy ! The storm which is gathering against 
royal power, and the privileged class, and the accumulated abuses 
of ages, will burst fearfully on them also. It will be found that 
they have built on the sand. 

Clergymen in America! This is a fact worth considering by you. 
Your influence over the American people has been great; greater, 
perhaps, than the moral influence of the clergy has ever been in any 
land. It has been gained by the deep-seated conviction among all, 
of your sincerity, of your unwavering love of Liberty, of your hearty 
sympathy with human progress. It is remembered, that your body 
led the Puritans, that you aroused the people, and even led them 
in the struggle of the Revolution; that you have stood first ever 
since in the promoting of social reform, and the defence of genuine 
Freedom! For this, you have the full confidence and affection of 
the nation. 

But if the time ever comes, in which your Order is found siding with 
the powerful against the weak ; if from motives of paltry fear, or of 
caution, or of selfish interest, you are seen upholding wrong, however 
legalized and sanctioned; if the voice which has so often rung for 
Freedom, is heard on the side of oppression ; if the holy influence of 



SUNDAY EVENING. 


305 


your office, the sanctions of the Word which you teach, are turned 
to support the strong in high places, and to press down the helpless— 
then is your influence over the American heart gone ! Nor is that 
all. If Religion and the Bible are made to excuse or defend 
Tyranny—“ away with the Bible !” will be the cry. And we shall 
have an Infidelity wide-spread, worse even than the German— 
because all the best impulses of the age will gather around it. 

Let us be warned in time. 


In tite afternoon of this Sabbath, I attended a meeting of the 
Baptists, m a distant part of the city—quite as simply conducted as 
the services of our least formal sects; and with an air of unassumed 
sincerity ana spirituality. After this, I took that pleasantest of all 
walks, the Sunday evening walk in the park, adjoining the city— 
the Thiergarten Many parties were out enjoying the bracing win¬ 
ter air; but on the whole, not especially gay or noisy. There seems 
much less dissipation on Sunday, in Protestant than in Catholic Ger¬ 
many. In the evening, I was invited to a friend’s, Pastor L-, a 

man much beloved in Berlin for his simple Christian character, and 
well known for his talents. There was some pleasant singing of 
hymns by the family—those earnest old German hymns—in the 
early part of the evening; and about eight o’clock, we sat down to 
supper. Dried goose flesh, Wurst, tongue with bread and butter 
made the principal part, followed as a close by a large pudding with 
a cup of tea to each. We were a long while eating, and still longer 
talking. At length, the things were cleared away ; a huge punch¬ 
bowl was brought in, the pipe filled for the Pastor, and a cigar of¬ 
fered me, and the cups being passed around, the long conversation 
of the evening began. 




?O0 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


I spoke in the course of it, of the hymns they had been singing; 
How very expressive and heart-felt they seemed to me. Yes, they said, 
the old hymns were a treasure to their people, only next to the Bi¬ 
ble. “ They have become so identified with various parts of our 
lives, that we cannot do without them. This hymn for instance has 
been sung at thousands of death-beds. 

“‘Mein Jesus ist mein Leben, und Sterben mein Gewinn; ihm 
hab Ich mich ergeben, in Friede fahr ich him’ 

“ Have you Americans hymns, that you love so much ? We Ger¬ 
mans, perhaps, feel music more than you.” 

I told him, I thought that our people had a great love for music, 
though of course they were not so cultured in it, as the Germans. 
And I believed the most intellectual part of us, felt the music in 
church-service quite as much as the ignorant, “for it is the language 
of the heart, and the head is not offended by it, as in many of our 
religious forms.” 

“ To which of your sects do you belong, Mr. B. ? ” said Madame 

“ To the Independenten ,” I answered, and then attempted to ex¬ 
plain the position of our Congregational churches—“ selbst-standige 
Gemeinden ,” as I called them. 

“Are they Lutheran or Reformed ?” was the next inquiry. 
Their creed was more from Calvin, I said, though we did not make 
the same division as in Germany. 

“ Is not the splitting up into so many sects a great evil with you, 
in America?” they asked. “It does not seem right that the 
Church of Christ should be so divided!” 

I replied, that if these sects were rivals, or were continually quar¬ 
relling, or if they felt each that .the other was out of the church, it 
would be so But as it is now, they only represent a few of the in- 



TALK. 


307 


finite differences of the human mind. “ You here in Germany, in 
the United Church, are in fact just as much divided; that is, if you 
are honest. You yourself, Herr Pastor, have told me of the very 
great difference of opinion in the German Church, in regard to the 
doctrine of eternal punishment, and I think, if you ask each think¬ 
ing man, you will find quite as great a variety here of theologica/ 
views, as are shown by our sects.” 

They allowed it would probably be so. 

“ What surprises us most here in Germany, about America,” said 
the pastor, “ is that you sustain so religious a state and such a steady 
self-government —for we have taken that word into German—when 
you are getting from Europe all our wildest elements. You have 
our proletariat, our escaped convicts, our reddest Republicans, our 
Socialists and Jesuits. I myself hardly believe the American Re¬ 
public can last, with such a continual pouring in of these classes.” 

I told him the 6ery Revolutionists cooled down there very fast, 
having as much as they could do, to earn their “ butter-brodf and 
besides, finding nothing which needs revolutionizing. “ And as for 
the immigration of your proletariat, your paupers and your rogues, 
it is an awful evil; but for my part, I am glad that there is one 
land where the man who has gone wrong before, can start afresh. 
We do not want the refuse of your prisons on our shores, but we 
do offer hope to the outcast again, and if his influence is bad, with 
God’s aid we will meet it.” 

“ Q u t /—g 0(X l P.—said they all; “ a health to your Fatherland !” 

“Thank you ! I think,” I added, “you are under some mistake 
in regard to our Socialists. I find every one here looks on them as 
the worst people.” 

“ What! You do not think that there is anything good in So¬ 
cialism 



308 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


“ Certainly I do. Socialism as Communism, the voice of com¬ 
mon sense everywhere condemns. And it is very plain, that Europe 
has passed its sentence on the Socialists, as a party. Perhaps those 
in Europe may be worse men than ours in America. But I think 
with us, the movement will have its good effects. Our Socialists 
especially advocate the raising up of brute labor, by uniting it with 
Capital and making it responsible. And you will find in many of 
our manufactories the workmen holding shares of the stock. They 
encourage Association, too, especially for those who cannot protect 
themselves. Then, for my part, I think it good, particularly in our 
crowded cities, that they preach up so continually the advantage to 
every man of owning land, and through its great advocates in the 
New York Tribune —have you seen this journal ?” 

“ No ; the only American papers we ever see here are the New 
York Herald, and the Staats Zeitung.” 

“ Well, through the articles of that paper, though very few agree 
with its theory, much attention has been drawn to the laboring 
classes. We begin to feel more the claims and rights of the poor. 
You understand ? We are not Socialists; but many of us think 
there are truths in this Socialist movement.” 

“ But do you not at least fear the Catholics ?” said the pastor. 
“We are in much alarm here in Prussia. Some report—though I 
do not credit it—that His Majesty himself is influenced by the 
Jesuits. And we hear that they are making great advances in the 
Rhenish provinces. Will not the enemy soon be in like a flood 
everywhere, even in your free land ? I fear it, mein Freund.” 

I answered that many good people feared it with us. I did not. 
Jesuitism was behind the age; “and if it ever influences America, 
it must be very different from what it has been.” 



THE CHILDREN. 


309 


“ Ach !—you don’t know it as we do, Herr B-. It changes 

everywhere.” 

“ But, Vater /” said one of the children, “ you must not forget to 
let der Herr B. tell us about the Indian chief, he promised. To 
think that he has really seen the Indianer —only they are very often 
not at all as Cooper makes them, and he says that they wear old 
hats and long coats, like other people. Do tell us, Herr B. 1”—and 
accordingly I am drawn into a long description of a poor tribe I 
once saw and its chief. “ Oh ! how hard it must be for them to 
leave the old hunting-grounds !” they all say at the close; and the 
Frau Mutter half brushes away a tear, as she thinks of the sad lot 
of the exiles, and the pastor says solemnly, “ God will hold your 
Fatherland accountable!” 

“ But tell us more, Herr B.,” the children say, as they cluster 
around me, “ about the great steamboats you told us of once, which 
have so many thousand people in, and the cars with sofas and fire¬ 
places, and the buffaloes and all that. We want to hear again !” 
So I spin another long story, when, at length, it is time for the chil¬ 
dren to go to bed. We all leave the table for the other room, and 
family prayer is held; a short, heart-felt exercise, breathing with 
love and charity and child-like dependence on the Giver of all their 
mercies. The children embrace “ the father” and me, and are taken 
up stairs. I say a few words of parting, kiss the hand of the Frau 
Mutter, and am conducted to the outside door by the pastor, where 
he kisses me on both cheeks, “ Gott sei mit Ihnen !” (God be with 
you !)—Gute Naclit !—and I return home. The Sunday has been 
a happy one to think of, though after all, there are no church ser¬ 
vices like those in one’s native tongue. 

The sermons, as usual, have disappointed me. Since I have been 
in Europe, I have listened faithfully to the preaching in the coun- 



310 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


tries of the highest culture, and I am satisfied that in that mode of 
influencing men, the European nations are not at all equal to us. It 
is not only in a facility of speaking—which is much more gener¬ 
ally possessed by our people than by any other unless the Hun¬ 
garian—that I find this inferiority, but in the genial sympathy with 
humanity, and in the thorough intellectual cultivation of oratory, by 
which alone a great part of the community can be reached. In 
Scotland, where the preachers have a greater influence than in any 
other country of Europe, the sermons are models of consistent and 
thorough logic; and I know nothing more interesting than the sight 
of a Scottish audience, settling itself down with such an air of com¬ 
fortable enjoyment, to the hearing of a lengthy discussion on some 
of the driest, knottiest points of a technical theology. Still, with all 
this, and though the Scottish oratory is often of a very effective 
kind, and the Scottish clergymen of the Free Church, since that 
grand, noble act of “ Separation,” take a position which no other 
clergymen in Europe can take, it will be found that their preaching 
has very little hold of great masses in the community. The 
sympathies of the preachers are not with the immense classes of the 
poor and degraded. The Scottish religious thought is trammeled 
by systems. The ministers denounce from the pulpit, and they lay 
down their dogmas; but, as they themselves confess, there are large 
classes, both of earnest, inquiring minds, and of degraded, sunken 
characters, whom they never at all influence. 

In England, oratory is by no means so generally cultivated as with 
us; and sermonizing in the Church has become often a mere form, 
while in the Dissenters, it is not generally supported by the highest 
culture, or most thorough labor. At least, that was my impression 
in England. The French pulpit oratory is often very touching and 
beautiful; full of an affectionate earnestness—sometimes not suffi- 



GERMAN PREACHING. 


31J 


ciently chaste; but usually showing much pathos and poetry ; a style, 
which under a free-church system, might be developed into a very 
effective means of influence. 

In Germany, there are two distinct styles of preaching, so far as 
I have observed—a very abstract and obscure style, and a superfi¬ 
cial and “ popular,” the latter much predominating. Whether this 
is owing to the fact that the preachers must address so many very 
ignorant people, or to some deficiency in “ the practical ” in the 
German character, I do not know ; but certain it is that the German 
preaching, at least in Prussia and Saxony, is usually inferior in in¬ 
tellectual power, and very little adapted to make any lasting impres¬ 
sion on any one. The sermon is a well-meaning religious exhorta¬ 
tion, not well delivered—for the Germans are seldom good speakers— 
but pathetic to the weaker part of the audience, and sometimes 
flowery. For deep and earnest thought, which penetrates men’s 
minds and rests there; for the eloquent expression of the preacher’s 
own life and experience, one must not go to the usual German 
preaching ; and, quite naturally, there is very little interest among 
the majority of the community in preaching. 

The best pulpit orators I heard, were Dr. Tholuck, Wichern of 
Hamburg, and one or two of the Berlin pastors. I would not take 
it on myself to say where exactly the preachers are at fault; for very 
many things are to be considered, in an old country, with almost 
hopelessly ignorant classes like this. But such, in general, is my 
imnression of German preaching. 



CHAPTER XXXII. 


THE UNION OF THE GERMAN CHURCHES. 

The traveller in Germany will find himself with surprise, on enter¬ 
ing certain Protestant churches, under a form of worship which 
seems to him scarcely to differ from the Catholic. The clergyman 
is going through with similar manifold genuflections and movements 
to and fro, before the altar, or is singing passages of the worship 
with his back to the audience ; candles are burning before the cruci¬ 
fix at mid-day; there are old pictures over him and images of saints 
on the walls, and everything reminds him of the church whose 
power has always been in her striking and sensual ceremony. 

Again, he will enter other churches and join in a worship plain 
and simple as the simplest to which he has been accustomed in any 
land. A prayer, a hymn sung by the congregation, the sermon, 
and the closing blessing—and then perhaps will flash upon him the 
history and the opposing tendencies of those two minds who have 
left their ineffaceable impress on every nation of Christendom —Lu¬ 
ther and Calvin, —and he will see that he has been standing before 
the embodiment of their thoughts and feelings, in the forms of the 
“ Reformed ” and the “ Lutheran ” churches. If he should carry his 
researches still farther, he will find, especially in North Germany, 
churches where both the modes of worship he has seen before seem 


LUTHER AND CALVIN. 


313 


combined—where the “ wafer ” is not used at communion, but the 
candles still burn at the altar; where the clergyman sings the ser¬ 
vice, but the service itself is “ Reformed; ” where the creed speaks of 
Calvin and the ceremonies of Luther; and then, on inquiry, he will 
iearn for the first time, with surprise at his ignorance—if he be in 
my own situation—that these forms are the results of a most impor¬ 
tant religious Movement, which has been going on for more than 
a century in North Germany, and which has called out more bitter 
feelings and at the same time more ardent hopes, than any other 
religious movement of the age—a movement whose thorough suc¬ 
cess would have changed the whole aspect of the German Protestant 
Church : I mean the attempt for the Union of the Reformed and 
Lutheran Churches. 

I wish in this chapter to enter into an examination of these efforts 
for a Union, both because of their very important influence on the 
present state of the German Church, and because of the very little 
knowledge there is generally on the whole subject. 

In doing this, it is not necessary that I should speak at any length 
of the differences of these two churches, or of the minds which 
founded them. 

Luther, we all know, clung to the Past, loved a strong mingling 
of “ the material ” in his worship, and could not avoid a tone of 
mysticism in his creed; Calvin and his school were men more of 
the new times—men of clear intellect, of abstraction, of progress. 

They do not seem to me either of them to have been so much 
opposed to one another, as rather to have represented different sides 
ot* the human mind. We are all Calvinists or Lutherans, almost 
by nature, and sometimes we become one or the other, as our years 
or our circumstances change. For my part, I must say my sympa¬ 
thies are always with the Lutheran and my practice with the Ca 1 
14 



14 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


vinist. I should like to believe with such men as Luther, and 
Coleridge, and Bushnell, that there was a mystic, mysterious in¬ 
fluence in the partaking of the Lord’s Supper, deeper and more 
sacred than that from a mere “ memorial; ” or with Melancthon, 
that an unseen power acted in Baptism, which made it something 
more than a “ symbol.” I could hope that their belief would prove 
the true one;—but it will not stand the cold touch of Reason; 
it does not fit the “ compasses of Logic ”—and I must doubt. Yet 
those are the minds which are much the most interesting, with whom 
one can have the deepest sympathies, whom one can most love, but 
with whom, alas ! one cannot think. 

To understand this subject of the “ Union,” it will be necessary to 
go into historical detail somewhat, and the research will necessarily 
be dry. Yet this detail is indispensable to understanding the pre¬ 
sent condition of religious parties in Germany, and it opens an im¬ 
portant movement, in regard to which there is very little known in 
America, among those who ought to be much better informed. 

The dissensions between the Lutheran and Reformed churches in 
Germany, had been now almost for centuries one - of the crying evils of 
the Protestant Church. Theological bitterness and controversy had 
well nigh exhausted itself over the points of difference. Churches had 
been severed which should have acted together in the same great 
cause ; and the contest had reached such a height among the com¬ 
mon children of the Reformation, that not only the preachers of one 
side would not interchange with those of the other in performing 
church services, but that even Lutheran families would not associate 
or intermarry with Reformed. It was not till the eighteenth cen¬ 
tury, that any great effort was made to heal these dissensions. 
Princes had occasionally issued proclamations, but it was always 
found that “ Orders from Cabinets ” had very little influence over 



THE FIRST EFFORTS. 


315 


the odium theologicum. At length, in 1730, the Centennial Fes¬ 
tival of the Reformation, or rather of the formation of the Augsburg 
Confession, took place, and it was anxiously desired that all par¬ 
ties should join amicably in it. Accordingly the preachers from both 
churches publicly recommended the two parties, “ in speaking and 
writing, to preserve theological prudence and suitable moderation 
and calmness, and to avoid all abusive expressions or invectives 
against those related in the Faith ! ” 

At this Festival, several distinguished men ventured to speak out 
in favor of a union of the two parties. The son of Bishop Jablonski 
boldly asserted that “ the difference of opiuion did not concern the 
ground of Faith.” More impressively still, a certain Dr. Tollner, in 
his Miscellaneous Theses, declares that “ the easiest and most attain¬ 
able means of union, was a common Declaration, that the difference 
of opinion is no essential ground of separation between the two 
churches, and that they should unite in the great ideas of the Refor¬ 
mation.” All these efforts by prominent men, and the general 
friendly influence of such a festival, had a good effect in preparing 
the minds of the people for a nearer union hereafter of the opposing 
sects. At the close of the century many other voices were raised 
with the same object; and among them that of Kosler, of Epping, 
in a somewhat remarkable appeal: “ We have a great, an immortal 
work before us, which in earlier and later times the most celebrated 
philosophers, princes and kings, have attempted in vain—the unity 
of Lutherans and Reformed , or rather the melting together of both 
these Protestant religious parties into one. Calvin and Luther shall 
embrace before the altar of Religion, break their shepherds’ staves, 
and deliver over the sceptre to the Genius of Protestant Freedom 
alone ! The names ‘ Reformed ’ and Lutheran ’ shall die away 



310 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY 


(verhalleri) forever, and only the name of ‘ Protestant * be given and 
taken,” &c., &c. 

In 1800, an address of Simon Van Alpen appears to have pro 
duced much effect, wherein he says : “ Of no giving up of this ,pr 
that doctrine, no yielding of this or that sect, is the talk; and as 
little would we introduce a community of goods, or melt together 
the means of the different parties. No ; we will only think upon 
this, how good and beautiful it is to be in union. We will only 
work for toleration, for sociality, for harmony of spirit, but never force 
Faith—Unity ! ” 

At this time, as the result of all these efforts and perhaps of greater 
enlightenment, there began to prevail a much more friendly spirit 
between the two churches. The preachers interchanged in church 
services and even in celebrating the Communion, and the families 
of one party were known not unfrequentlv to intermarry with those 
of the other. There seemed hardly an objection in some places to a 
formal union, except in the difficulty of arranging the property of 
the various denominations. In these years, too, Herder uttered his 
voice for the uniting of the sects, though warning that “ only two 
things can unite opposing religious parties —Time and Truth!" 

Here, in the beginning of this century, came the sweep of war 
over Germany, and began the long yeare in which the power and 
the laws of a foreign conqueror were fastened upon Germany. The 
immediate effect of Napoleon’s “ Confederation of the Rhine,” by its 
prostrating all religious sects to the same level and bringing them 
all under the same laws, was undoubtedly to unite and soften their 
differences of doctrine. But the greatest influence arose from the 
nature of those wonderful events during the first years of the nine¬ 
teenth century. The common sufferings of Germany, the long years 
of disgrace, the sudden, inspirited, almost religious uprising against 



317 


THE “APPEAL” 


the French, the well nigh miraculous deliverance, all conspired to 
deepen the religious feelings throughout the land. Even in the com¬ 
plicated diplomatic negociations of 1815, and in the later Conferences, 
there is a religious tone manifest, which is very singular indeed, and 
which, if we consider the astounding deceptions of the princes at the 
time, we might regard as mere hypocrisy. But the inconsistencies 
of human nature are manifold, and we are justified perhaps in be¬ 
lieving that, even here, there was a basis of truly religious feeling. 
With this general state of feeling through Germany, as the Centen- 
uial Festival of the Reformation in 1817 drew near, the desires in¬ 
creased among all parties for a nearer union of the churches. A 
day of truer freedom and unity seemed dawning for Germany,— 
why should not the common disciples of the Reformation, pitted 
against one another so long in fierce contest, at length join hands 
over their common principles ? What better expression of gratitude 
to God for His dealings with Germany, than this harmony of His 
•servants ? 

These feelings, strong and deep, were wonderfully increased that 
year by an “ Appeal,” made by the king of Prussia with reference 
to the Union, to the various “ Consistories” of the monarchy. This 
“ Appeal” is the basis of all the subsequent proceedings in Prussia. 
We will extract briefly from it :* 

“ Already have my enlightened predecessors—now resting in 
God—Prince John Sigismund, Prince George William, the Great 
Prince, King Frederick II, and King Frederick William II, made 

* I copy these extracts from an old newspaper of the year 1817, contain¬ 
ing the Appeal in full. And I would say here, that the details given in this 
chapter are taken from a great variety of histories and newspapers, or gath¬ 
ered from conversation with those well-informed on the subject—as indeed 
no comprehensive account of the whole movement exists, so far as I know. 



318 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


the attempt with pious earnestness, as the history of their lives and 
governments prove, to unite into one Evangelical Christian Church 
the two separate Protestant Churches, the Reformed and the 
Lutheran. * * * * * 

“ Such a true religious unity of both churches, as yet only sepa¬ 
rated by outward differences, is suitable to the great objects of 
Christianity ; it answers the first views of the Reformers ; it lies in 
the spirit of Protestantism; it is healthy to household piety ; it will 
become the source of many useful improvements, often only hin¬ 
dered by the difference of confessions, both in churches and schools. 
###### 

“But much as I must desire that the Reformed and Lutheran 
churches in my kingdom should share with me this my well-tested 
conviction, yet equally far am I, in my regard for their rights and free¬ 
dom, from wishing to force them or to determine their choice in any 
degree in this matter. This union can only have a true value, if 
neither indifference nor persuasion have a share therein, if it comes 
from the freedom of individual conviction, and is not a unity of out¬ 
ward form alone, but a unity of heart.” * * 

We will not follow it through farther. Suffice it to say, it con¬ 
tains the most admirable principles of church unity, is written in a 
lovely tone of toleration and of true Christian feeling, and forms, in 
connection with succeeding events, one of the most beautiful in¬ 
stances in history of the utter contrast between the public profes¬ 
sions of princes and their actions. However, at the time it made a 
great impression, and the long-wished for Union seemed to many at 
length close at hand. 

° f 

Schleiermaclier took up the subject with great earnestness, and 
with him, as presiding officer, a synod of Berlin preachers from both 
churches met to adopt suitable measures. The king had already 



UNION. 


316 


made known his intention of celebrating this Festival of the Refor¬ 
mation, by uniting the two court churches of the different sects into 
one “ Evangelical Christian” Church, and partaking with them in 
common of the Lord’s Supper. In agreement with the above, this 
Synod decided that in the parishes the names “Reformed” and 
“ Lutheran” should no more be applied to the different churches, 
but the name “Evangelical Christian,” and that they would all 
unite at once in the communion—the only change in this last being, 
that bread should be used instead of the wafer, and that simply the 
words of Christ should be said, “ Take, eat, this is my body,” &c. 
Still, it was added, that both in this union and in this change of 
ceremony no change of doctrine or uniting of confessions was im¬ 
plied, and that no one who joined them should be considered as 
having left his own church. At the same time notice was given 
that the Candidats in Theology who presented themselves for ex¬ 
amination before the Consistory of this church, could be of either 
Confession. 

The “ Union” was now an organized thing. There was a “ Uni 
ted Evangelical Christian Church” in Prussia. Thus far, matters 
had gone on well. Before the assembling of the synod, the uniting 
seemed almost a natural process; but with the proceedings of this 
body began many objections to arise. It was noticed, with distrust, 
that very many of those most prominent in the efforts for the union, 
were men of no especial earnestness of Christian character. The 
harmony in many quarters seemed very much like the harmony of 
indifference. It was urged too, with much force, that the union was 
a merely apparent union—a melting together of ceremonies which 
never would have differed from each other, unless they had repre¬ 
sented different opinions. Time, it was claimed, would have done 
much more for true union. The Berlin synod had been in too much 



320 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


haste to pluck the fruit. Despite these querulous voices, the king 
was determined to carry the matter through, and accordingly, in 
1821, issued a public “ Church-Service” (Amende), which he ordered 
to be adopted in the “Court Church” and cathedral of Berlin, 
and which he recommended to the other parishes of Prussia. The 
service here recommended is the one, with some slight modifica¬ 
tions, at present used by all the united churches in the kingdom, 
and it may not be superfluous to examine it briefly. 

It will be remembered that the Reformed churches of Germany 
early simplified their form of worship as much as possible, while 
Luther, in the churches under his influence, preserved many of the 
traits of the old Romish ceremony. Still more than the Lutheran 
worship, did the form in the Church of England approach the Roman 
Catholic form, while the creed of that church leaned to that of the 
Reformed. Accordingly in this new Prussian Church-Service the 
model taken is the service of the Church of England, with the de¬ 
sign of satisfying both parties in the German Church. The great 
points of difference between this and the old Lutheran form, are in 
the words spoken at the Lord’s Supper, and in the change of certain 
expressions in the Litany. Various passages, too, which appeared 
to smack too much of the “ old orthodoxy,” in this new form are 
modernized. At the breaking of bread, under the Lutheran service, 
it is said, “ This is the true body of Christ Jesus, which shall 
strengthen us,” &c. In the United-Service, “ Our Lord and Holy 
One Jesus Christ speaks , ‘ This is my body,’ ” &c. In the Old, in 
the prayer, “ As we now purpose to celebrate the Supper of our 
Lord, wherein he has given us his flesh for food , and his blood for 
a drink” &c. But in the New, merely “ As we now intend to hold 
a memorial-meal , which'has been established by Him for the 
strengthening of our faith,” &c. 



NEW SERVICE. 


321 


The Lutheran exorcism at baptism, “ Depart, thou unciean spirit, 
and give place to the Holy Spirit!” becomes “ Let the spirit of im¬ 
purity give place to the Holy Spirit!” 

The forswearing of the devil under the old form by the baptized, 
in three separate questions and answers, is simplified into “Dost 
thou deny the Wicked ( Bosens , which may mean either a person 
or a thing) in all its (or his) works and being V 1 

Our limits will not allow us to go more particularly into an ex¬ 
amination of this service. Suffice it to say all the old expressions 
with reference to inherited depravity are softened, all allusions to the 
existence of Satan as a being are carefully rooted out, together with 
the Lutheran belief of the bodily ‘presence in the bread and wine at 
the Supper. The whole has besides a much more modern look than 
the Lutheran services, and is filled with more expressions of homage 
and obedience to the king, “the highest bishop,” than are the 
former. 

The official publication of this church-service, and the prospect of 
its soon being forced upon the nation, at once aroused all the old 
slumbering spirits of controversy. From far and near, from Lu¬ 
therans* and Reformed, from the Unionists themsel /es, came the 
attacks on this new mode of worship. 

* Among the very strong opposers of this service, at this time, was Stef¬ 
fens, and as he was a man of feeling and vigorous thought, it may give an 
idea of what modern Lutheranism is, under its best forms, to quote some of 
his thoughts on the “ Communion Supper.” 

“ Through the communion the whole mystery of Redemption sinks in its 
rich fullness into the feeling personality. * * * * What Christ believes, 
what impregnates his whole life, what overpowers death—this becomes by 
the sanctifying presence of the Redeemer (in the Communion Supper) 
Certainty, Enjoyment, Nourishment. Only he w'no knows the being of 
Love (and he only knows it who has lived it) can comprehend this inner In¬ 
spiration. All that we think and will, everv mrking idea of the spirit 
14 * 



392 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 

The Lutherans disliked it because it omitted their peculiar doc¬ 
trine with regard to the Communion, and because of its modern 
half-rationalistic tone. The Reformed could not endure the Romish 
customs it enjoined—of singing at the altar, and burning candles 
before the crucifix, and the half Catholic arrangement of the litur¬ 
gy. The indifferent objected to the King’s assuming to himself the 
ecclesiastical power, and among the Unionists, one who had been 
most prominent in the first movement—Schleiermacher—came out 
with characteristic boldness, and denied that this jus liturgicum was 
included among the royal rights; in other words denied that the 
king had the right to prescribe in what way his people should wor¬ 
ship. All the opposition, however, could not delay the progress of 
the “ Agende? In four years, it was adopted by nearly 6000 
churches in Prussia ; the government requiring a direct yes or no, 
as to its reception, from every preacher. ( And in 1826, directly 
against all the beautiful principles of toleration put forth by the 
king in the beginning, it was forced upon every parish under govern¬ 
mental influence.) In 1830 it became the legalized mode of worship 
in the National Church. 

One would have supposed that this would have at length settled 
the subject of the “ Union.” Bnt it was very far from doing so. 
The great question now arose what peculiarly the Union was! 
Was it merely a union of ceremonies ? If so, what was it worth, 
and how could ceremonies be changed without in some degree im- 

everything which we gaze at and enjoy, as great and noble—body and soul 
pressing themselves through to a higher spiritual union, step to meet the 
present Holy One. All which he was and will be to the world : all which 

he taught and suffered, forms itself anew in us. His words are Himself_ 

are Spirit and Life.” 

w I am no theologian, * * * but the Communion Supper seems to me 
the highest, the most important, most mysterious of all religious acts.’ 


UNION QUARRELS, 


333 


plying a change of the opinions which they represented! Was it 
a union of creeds ? But this idea, it was well known, was strongly 
deprecated by some of the most strenuous supporters of the mea¬ 
sure,. Besides, if it was such a uniting of opinions, what was now 
the common basis ? Was it the Augsburg Confession, which was 
the only one on which they could appear to be in harmony ? But 
here, there was the insurmountable objection that the Lutherans held 
to a different form of the Confession (invariata con/essio) from that 
recognized by the Reformed ( variata .) Beside all this, the difficulty 
arose as to the point whether the United Church was the National 
Church or not. The supporters of the movement claimed nation¬ 
ality for it, as vehemently as the opposers denied. So that now 
there was not only fierce dispute on the question what the Union 
was, but where it was. To these endless quarrelings over the long 
hoped for “ harmony,” was added the intense opposition of the “ old 
Lutherans,” who would have nothing to do with the Union, who 
abhorred it as our Puritanic ancestors would have abhorred being 
“ united ” into the Church of England. In Silesia and Breslau, this 
opposition rose to a determined resistance. And here the King, for¬ 
getting the beautiful sounding principles which he had uttered in 
the beginning of the movement, proceeded to drive the opposing 
•jects into a union ; “ united ” clergymen were installed over unwill¬ 
ing congregations by companies of infantry, and those who would 
not “ harmonize ” were sent to prison, or driven to foreign lands, to 
acquire a more fraternal disposition. 

So vanishes the beautiful dream of Christian Unity! The king, 
however, still continued his efforts, and in 1834 issued the “ Cabinet 
Order,” on which the present dispositions of the Prussian Church 
rest. According to this document the Union is a matter of free 
resolve ; the reception of the new Church-Service does not include 



3S4 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


the Union in itself: and furthermore, churches that wish the pas¬ 
tors about to be placed over them pledged on the “ Augsburg Con¬ 
fession,” are allowed this privilege. 

But we will quote a passage— 

“ The Union purposes and intends no giving up of the previous 
Confessions of Faith, nor is through it the authority, which the con¬ 
fessional writings of both churches have thus far had, in any way 
abrogated. By the connection with it, will only the spirit of mod¬ 
eration and mildness be expressed, a spirit which would not let the 
difference of single points of doctrine in the other Confession, be held 
as a ground for denying it outward churchly society.” 

The last movement of any importance with reference to this mat¬ 
ter, is the assembling of the “General Synod” in Berlin in 1846. 
Nothing, however, of the existing relations of the churches was 
changed by this body. Their efforts appear to have been directed 
to an ingenious and benevolent plan for jointing together a" Union 
by the aid of a double-meaning Confession. For instance, in the 
“ Ordination-formulary ” proposed by them, in the expression “ God 
the Father and the Son,” &c., the comma is introduced after “ Fa¬ 
ther,” with the design of leaving the liberty to those who wished of 
applying the name “ God ” to the Father alone. And in respect to 
Christ, the word “ 'Self-privation ” ( Selbslentausserung ) is used, and 
the words, “of the glory which he had with the Father,” are ex¬ 
pressly left out. Throughout this form for Ordination, Scripture 
terms are as much as possible alone employed, so that the preacher 
who pledges himself to them may apply his own interpretation. 
The object of the Synod seems to, have been, by means of such an 
elastic Confession, to bring all the clergymen under one union, and 
then to have allowed each church to propose its own particular form 
of faith, (if it so desired) to the candidate for Ordination, The plan 



WHAT RESULT? 


320 


fell through, however, and the present Prussian Union rests on the 
legal basis of the “Cabinet Order” of 1834. 

An apology, perhaps, is due to the reader for carrying him 
through such a mass of dry detail. But it is only by these histori¬ 
cal facts that the present condition of the Prussian Church can be 
understood ; the parties into whicn it is divided, and the hopes and 
feelings which have gathered long and which still exist in connection 
with these parties. It is believed, too, that the facts here presented 
are exceedingly difficult to obtain in any clear and compact form, 
even in Prussia itself. 

It will be seen, that the result, after all, of these many govern¬ 
mental efforts to unite the opposing sects is a failure. Thero is no 
more real unity than there was in the old days of bitter controversy. 
What harmony there is, either began before government put in its 
aid, or is the result of the present wide-spread indifference to the 
whole subject of religion and its ceremonies. Lutheran and Re¬ 
formed, indeed, worship often now under the same forms, but either 
holding different beliefs of certain dogmas, or with no earnest belief 
whatever. Probably the next generation, brought up in this 
“ Unity,” will be entirely indifferent to the theological controversies 
of their fathers. But whether this harmony, connected as it is with 
that deadness of religious life always the effect of governmental in¬ 
terference, is of any value, is a question. 

Another great result is the important ecclesiastical power allowed 
the king by the Union. With his right as “ Patron,” of appointing 
the clergymen to a great number of the churches of Prussia, with 
the power he has assumed, of imposing a Liturgy on the people, 
and with his privilege of either nominating or approving the mem¬ 
bers of the “ Upper Consistory,” the great ruling Synod of the 
kingdom, he has certainly a very extensive and dangerous influence 



326 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


over the Church of the nation. Indeed it is the opinion of very 
many that the only object of Frederick Third’s many efforts in this 
matter, was to strengthen the power of the crown. This is possible. 
But the general history shows the King of Prussia during at least 
the years of Napoleon’s rule, to have been a weak man much ra¬ 
ther than a bad man. And accounts which I have heard in pri¬ 
vate, of his remorse in later years at the forcible measures he had 
employed to fasten the Union on the people, lead me to think his 
motives might not have been bad. However that may be, the re¬ 
sults are the same, and they at least show us that the great problem 
of the “ Union of Sects” is not at all solved in the Prussian Union. 



CHAPTER XXXIY. 


A DAY WITH A BURGER. 

I have been invited to spend the day with my friend T., just out 
of the city. It is beautiful Spring weather, and I find it very de¬ 
lightful to be strolling out in gardens again, in this mild air. There 
are young ladies in the company, the daughters of my friend, and 
a university student of theology from Halle, a young lawyer just 
about to pass his examen , and a sociable clever fellow of middle age, 
who may be a physician or a scientific man of property. They call 
him Doctor, and I am told he is a strong Free Trader. Some other 
young ladies have come in almost with me—true specimens of 
German beauties, with oval faces, flaxen hair in ringlets, pure speak¬ 
ing complexions, and eyes of clear, deep blue, of which you can 
hardly say whether they are more expressive of reflection or feeling. 
There seems a good prospect of a very sociable day. 

“ I suppose you did not know, Herr B.,” said one of the young 
ladies, as I came in, “ that we are having a holiday for the mother’s 
silver wedding ?” I told her I did not, and unfortunately, did not 
even know what the silver wedding was. “ So! I suppose you 
have no such things in your practical Fatherland. Bien ; in Ger¬ 
many when a couple have been married twenty-five years, they cele¬ 
brate the silver wedding, and the friends make them presents, and 


32S 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


if they are good fromme Leute —pious people, they go to church 
and have a ceremony, and it’s all a grand holiday. We Berliners 
leave out the church part, but we always have a merry time. Of 
course, you know no more, what the golden wedding is.” 

“Alas! no.” 

“ That is for the couple who have been married fifty years, and it 
is the custom in many parts, for them then to be married over again 
in church !” 

I professed myself very glad to have part in such a pleasant 
thing, and we turned to join with the rest of the company. 

The ladies at once sat down with their baskets of worsted and 
silks, and we of the male part, strolled out in the gardens. I asked 
soon in regard to the betrothal in North Germany—whether that 
was also much celebrated. They said, it was not; there was usually 
a formal announcement—nothing more. “ You will find,” said the 
Doctor, “ that these pretty customs of which you hear so much as 
German, are not much observed in North Germany. They are more 
Southern. We here are more cosmopolitan. I have been a great 
deal in England, and I notice very little difference in outward mat¬ 
ters, between our country and that. We are more social, and we 
like a good home-chat and frolic; but as for superstitions and in¬ 
teresting customs, we have few of them.” 

I told him, that there was one thing in which I found a great 
difference between the two countries, and for which I liked the Ger¬ 
mans—that was, the very few distinctions of rank here. “ I have 
never heard,” said I, “ a German talking about any other class or 
set, as if he especially troubled himself with it; and for all that is 
said. I should never know that an order of nobility existed here.” 

“ You are right, to a degree,” he replied. “ We Germans usually 
enjoy what we have, without asking whether others enjoy more or 




TITLES. 


320 


less, and we know little about the English, and t as I understand, 
your American—jealousy of those above us. Perhaps it is, be¬ 
cause no one ever expects in Germany to be anything more than his 
father is.” 

“ But,” interrupted the young lawyer, “ the Herr Americaner has 
not known all our ladies yet. If you only could see the stout lady 
of our chef, how indignant she is if a single title is left out. ‘ The 
Madame Councillor of the Court, and Professor and County Magis¬ 
trate, <fcc. <fec.’ I have only to string all these together, and add a 
von in the end, and I can put her into a heavenly humor!” 

“ Yes, our Advocat has hit it,” said the other, “ there is a very 
foolish fondness for these titles among certain people, but in general 
our nobles are of no account. They are neither rich nor talented, 
and of course, blood alone goes a very little way.” 

I questioned the Advocat as to his profession, in the course of 
the conversation, whether he studied a regular course, and whether 
he could go at once into practice ? 

“ Ho said he, “ and that is the worst of it. I cannot practice 
or afford to marry for ten years after passing my examinations. The 
drudgery is tremendous. Our code involves such an immense 
amount of study on the sources of the present law, on the colla¬ 
teral law, on so many branches of law, I must pass three very severe 
public examinations, and then I receive a small salary from govern¬ 
ment, and can either be a pleader, or solicitor, as I choose. The work 
is enormous. It seems to me, I was a fool for ever beginning it!” 

I asked how the jury courts worked. 

“ Miserably,” said he; “ it is an absurdity to suppose that twelve 
of our common Germans would either be honest or knowing enough 
ever to sit in judgment on any important case. Why should it not 
be left to a court of judges, educated for that very purpose ?” 



330 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


“But your judges are appointed by Governmentsaid I. “ Ara 
they qualified to decide on a case between the Government and the 
people ?” 

“ Yes; quite as much so as the other party. Professional charac¬ 
ter alone would generally impel them to decide honestly. The fact 
is, Herr B., we have before our juries, just such pleadings as you 
may remember in that famous case of Peekveek (Pickwick). Our 
jurymen are a mere Gesindel, (rabble) and would be completely 
blindfolded bv these Sergeant Bootsfoots, ( Buzfuz )—how do you 
call it ? ” 

I laughed at finding this classic of legal actions in the German; 
and the conversation turned, as it always will when that enclyco- 
pedia of fun is mentioned, into a delighted and hearty recalling of 
scene after scene of Pickwick. 

“ But, where are the young ladies ? ” said the Doctor, as we en¬ 
tered the house again, through one. of the large windows on the 
balcony. “ Why you know, Doctor,’' said one of those who had 
come in with me, “ that we all have come rather early ; and Frau- 
lein S. must oversee the kitchen awhile, and L. is engaged up stairs. 
You find all this,” turning to me, “ edit Deutsch , genuinely Ger¬ 
man, I dare say! We hear ladies never trouble themselves about 
such things^in America.” I assured her it was quite a mistake ; it 
depended entirely on the lady’s position and circumstances. “ Well, 
you at least see a difference in the place a lady occupies in the two 
countries!” they continued, “confess that your American lady is 
very much flattered.” 

In the large cities, I allowed it was so often; “ but in the country 
and in our small towns you will find our ladies as sensibly treated 
as you could desire; and many of them are good housekeepers.” 
Still I told them, I had beforehand expected one difference, and I 



WOMAN’S POSITION. 


331 


had found it everywhere the fact. They inquired what it was, and 
why I had expected it ? 

“ I have always observed,” said I, “ in your literature, in the 
correspondence of your cultivated people, that the women very sel¬ 
dom are allowed to hold as high a position, as with us. Now take 
that life and correspondence of Richter, a man who had the most 
exalted theories of woman’s capabilities; and whose wife was an 
uncommonly accomplished person—he always writes to her and 
treats her, as if she were his housekeeper or head servant. You see 
the tame thing pictured in his ‘ Flower and Thorn pieces ’—you 
have read that ? ” 

“ Oh, no; no one reads Richter now.’’ 

“ Well,” said I, “ I think I see the same thing in the feelings of 
the men generally. They are afraid of having women superior to them ; 
and you never find, at a large table or in a company, that a woman’s 
words are listened to as respectfully, as in America!” 

“ Sckon ! good ! ” said the ladies, clapping their hands ; “ we 
always said the same thing. What do you say to that, Herr 
Doctor ? ” 

“ Oh,” said the Doctor, laughing ; the Americans like the women 
to be hlauenstricmpfe —blue stockings! We want a woman, a 
woman. What’s the use of Greek and metaphysics to her ? She 
must know how to sweep and cook, and take care of the children— 
that will do for her ! ” 

“As for Richter,” said the Advocat, “he’s no authority ; we all 
know he drank brandy and water too hard the last few years, to 
write to any one decently.” 

«Yes; it was traurig —melancholy!” said the Candidate who 
had been listening in silence thus far. 

“ No, Doctor,” said I, “ we want nc blue stockings ; but we do 



332 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


want a woman to be something more than a housekeeper. We 
beiieve that woman’s education is only just in its commencement 
now. We cannot see a reason, why a person of the finest capa¬ 
cities, and destined in life to exert the greatest influence which one 
human being can ever exert over another—a mother’s—should be 
cut off in her intellectual training, just where we begin. We think 
that a woman should in every respect be equal to a man, in which 
her nature is capable of being equal. We want a companion, a 
friend in a woman—not a servant.” 

“ Vortrefflich ! excellent! ” said the ladies. 

“But,” said the Doctor, “ see how it would be! We should have 
a whole race of ‘ emancipated women; ’ each knowing a little Greek, 
or Hebrew, or Philosophy; and then thinking that she knew 
everything. Look at these pedant-women now—pah! there’s 

Madame T-, who always turns everything into its relation to 

the Kantean system, and who lets your coffee get cold, while she is 
lecturing! I would rather have a Bavarian apple-woman for a 
wife! ” 

“ And very pretty women they are too, I can tell you,” said the 
Advocat, “ especially the Munich, in the little gilt caps.” 

“ Besides,” he continued, “ a woman cannot in all respects equal 
a man, intellectually; and she cannot have time, at least in our poor 
.country, to study metaphysics and the cook-book at once. She 
must not neglect the household ! ” 

“But,” said one of the young ladies, “it is all the fault of you 
men. If you would do with fewer puddings, we should have more 
time. Every one of us could learn all that is necessary in house¬ 
keeping in one-tenth of the time we spend at it. It is your 
luxuries, which make us so busy.” 

“ You must let me explain myself,” said I. “ Remember, we 



LUNCH. 


333 


Americans do not want learned women, but educated women. 
What we desire is not books and languages and metaphysics, and 
all that, but the result of these—the power of thinking aud appre¬ 
ciating. I believe generally among the most highly educated peo¬ 
ple, there is the least said about the means. We do not care what 
books a man has read, or how many languages he knows ; but we 
ask, can he think for himself? Has he thoughts and judgments 
which are worth hearing ? So with a woman. I conceive that a 
woman will cook a turkey better, for being educated.” 

“ No, no; ” said my opponent, “ she will put salt into the Pfan- 
nekuchen , (pan-cakes) instead of sugar, like our learned Fraulein 0., 
when she was so absorbed in the study of the early Greek tragedy. 
Besides, what’s the use ? She never has been equal with man ; 
and she never can be.” 

“ If learning were common among women, there would not be 
these difficulties,” I replied. “No woman is conceited now because 
she knows French. We do not expect, that she will be equal to 
man in all respects, but we think she has some finer and superior 
capacities. As for her neglecting her natural duties at home, I sup¬ 
pose her instincts would always restrain her. One of our writers 
says, that probably no woman would ever desert an infant for a 
quadratic equation! ” 

“ Will you close the discussion in a friendly way,” said one of our 
hostesses, coming in, “ by first trying a little of our German housekeep¬ 
ing ? Lunch is ready!” and we all walked out informally to the 
dining-room, where we found a table set with flowers and some 
pretty fruit from the conservatories, Wurst, tongue, bread and but¬ 
ter, and beer. My friend also came in, and the talk went round 
with animation. “ There’s nothing I do so envy you Germans,” said 
I to a young lady next me, “ as your bread /” 



334 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


“ Why! do not you have good bread in America ?” 

“ Very seldom. I suppose it is owing to our yeast not being 
much obtained from breweries. Our bread is always too heavy 
or too light.” 

“ That is a misfortune! But you must go to Vienna, if you 
would eat good bread! and such puddings ! The Strudel! Have 
you those much in America, Herr B. ?” 

“Oh yes. We eat all that kind of dishes, much more than 
you here. The universal breakfast over the whole land, of rich 
and poor almost, are these Pfannekuchen of buckwheat or Turkish 
corn, eaten with molasses, or syrup. I suppose you never tasted 
any syrup ?” 

“ No, not that refined syrup, though we have heard in the books 
very much about it. But what a droll breakfast! You must eat 
sweets a great deal more than we.” 

Our attention here was called, by a growing discussion between 
the Doctor and our host upon Free Trade. 

“Mein lieber Freund,” said the Doctor, “you will find Austria is 
ruining herself by her close protective system. She has been 
obliged, it is true, to raise every kreutzer possible on account of her 
debt, but those heavy duties are crushing very much of her re¬ 
sources. See the change in the export of wool alone, both from 
Hungary and the other provinces. She may have built up one or 
two manufactures, though I doubt that, but her general agricultural 
interest is exceedingly damaged. Depend upon it, you cannot in¬ 
terfere with the natural laws of trade, without injury. I believe 
that with these enormous prices of foreign articles in Austria, these 
few inflated manufactures, and the depressed condition of the agri¬ 
culture, there will soon be a tremendous crash.” 

Our host argued in return, that very many of the difficulties in 



FREE-TRADE. 


335 


the Austrian Empire, resulted from the wasteful expenditure on 
armies, &c., and that at least, the condition of the linen and silk 
manufactures, and the coarse cottons, spoke favorably for the high 
lariffs. 

“ No,” said the Free Trader, “ it does not. They have gained to 
the loss of the other interests of the Empire. And it will be equally 
so here, if we unite with the Austrians on a high protective system. 
Prussia has now in our Customs’ Union, tariff enough. It is a 
pity that all Germany has not a common system of tariff, but when 
we do have one, it should be based on the lowest protection or on 
Free Trade. I do hope we shall carry this out eventually.” 

“ But,” said the other, “ our silk and iron manufactures demand 
more protection. They say, they can do nothing against the French 
and English.” 

“ Well, if they cannot, let them sink. Why should we pay more 
for an article, merely because it is made here. Of course, Prussia 
must always be more or less dependent on others. It is strange, 
people do not understand this here. Everywhere else in the world, 
the tendency is to a liberal system. Belgium has just renounced 
her old protective theories. Holland has had low tariffs for some 
years. Sardinia offers free trade to all, who will return it to her. 
England grows rich on it, and America tends more and more to it 
every year—though your Secretary Corwin,” turning to me, “has 
some most maedieval ideas on the subjects Then the only parts of 
Germany, which ever have been really prosperous, in a mercantile re¬ 
spect, have always been free traders. Bremen, Hamburg, Frankfort 
—the Hanse-towns.” 

“ Still they are only commercial cities,” the other replied. 

“ Hot at all. Hamburg has now most flourishing manufactures. 
There is one of the largest factories in Europe there—the Meyers, 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


built up under free-trade—a factory, which imports its wood, 
from America, and sends back the same in canes and whips to 
America /” 

“ A poor business for the United States,” said the other. 

“ Gar nicht !—not at all ! or they would have found it out. In¬ 
genuity is paid for better, somewhere else.” 

I inquired, here, what the policy of Prussia would probably be in 
this matter. 

“We cannot tell,” said the Free Trader; “the Government has 
no fixed policy, and the people in general know nothing about the 
subject. If we decline this high Protective Union offered by Aus¬ 
tria, it will be more because we hate Austria, than because we like 
Free Trade. There are some manifestly absurd provisions in the 
present Tariff—especially in determining the duties by weight — 
which we shall induce Government to change. We are arousing 
the thinking men everywhere, and holding meetings continually— 
by the way, there is one next Monday evening in the Englischen 
Gasthaus ; will you attend ?—and we hope gradually to bring our 
policy away from the protective system.” 

We now returned again to the drawing-room, and sat chatting or 
reading, or amusing ourselves, as each one pleased, the rest of the 
morning. The young ladies were surprisingly industrious; the 
daughters of our host running out every few minutes to see to the 
household arrangements, and the others keeping up an incessant 
sewing or embroidery-work. 

I speculated in myself then and have often since, as to the differ¬ 
ence between German ladies of this class and ours at home. There 
is a great contrast, though precisely where, it is somewhat difficult 
to say. Nearly all those in this company spoke several different 
languages yet there was singularly little interest in books or litera- 



GERMAN WOMEN. 


337 


ture among them. At first, too, you would have said that they 
were very free and independent in thought, and you would have 
given them credit for earnest investigations, which had brought out 
such free results ; but, after a little while, you would find that Free¬ 
dom of thought was their Orthodoxy , and that their independent 
thoughts were merely the echo of what they had been taught. You 
would see, that the attaining these results, had not required at all 
the mental or moral power which the same would with us. Yet, with 
them all, there was a very happy natural intelligence and quickness; on 
the whole, however, much less culture and power of original thought 
or reasoning, than with ladies in the same rank of life at home. Where 
they were superior, was in a certain individuality , a certain simpli¬ 
city, and natural following-out of their own bent and tendencies; 
and, also, in a spontaneous easy expression of themselves. 

Our ladies at home, especially in New England, strike one as too 
much cut in the same pattern, as under a similar mould—not intel¬ 
lectually, but in their habits, tendencies, sentiments. It is seldom 
you meet any one with us, either man or woman, who comes before 
you as a spontaneous, natural person-—one who really feels and ex¬ 
presses feeling, as she has it, and not as she thinks it “proper” to 
have it, or as she is taught she should have it. 

A New Englander, like an Englishman, is for ever thinking, “ What 
will others say ? ” or he is dreading “ humbugor an iron system 
of duty and obligation has been around him so long, that it has 
crushed in his easy, spontaneous impulses. 

In each of these German women there was a greater distinctness 
of nature ; a play of passion and feeling, which might be ill-governed 
sometimes, but which was very beautiful because it was hers , and 
was the effect of no instruction or public opinion. The Continental 
neopie seem to me, in general, to show more of that most pleasing 
15 



338 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


and exquisite variety of nature, which God has bestowed on all His 
works, and which no Creed and no System has the right to mar. 

It is possible the “ expression” here was much improved by the 
full and sweet' tones of these ladies. I know not why it is, but our 
Yankee schools or Yankee air, has given rise to the most disagree¬ 
able intonation, which any where disfigures the voices of a cultivated 
people. An American (from the Northern States) is known almost 
any where in Europe, from his nasal twang and whine. 

Want of refinement and education will produce in every country, 
bad modulations and tones of voice, which even in different lan¬ 
guages, do not essentially differ Trom one another. But in Amer¬ 
ica, people the most refined show this nasal defect of tone. It is 
comparatively rare, in New England, to meet a lady without some 
tinge of it, and the preachers manifest it almost universally. I have 
no doubt that if any one physical cause could explain the superior 
natural oratory in our Southern States, during our whole history, it 
would be their superiority in voice. It is remarkable how seldom 
the Americans themselves are conscious of this defect. 

Throughout Europe—especially, however, in Ireland and Hun> 
gary—this richness of tone struck my ear. 

Strange! the power of the human voice, when strung with genu¬ 
ine passion, or when bursting up, as it were, directly from the deep 
places of the heart! I have listened to tones in those old Irish 
homesteads, and I have heard voices by that death-bed of a Nation— 
in Hungary—voices of home-affection, of sorrow, of love for native 
land which many waters should not quench, of indignation at long- 
suffered injustice, which thrill constantly anew with an undiminished 
power over my memory, and to whose tones, the chords of ray soul 
cannot cease to vibrate, while they move to any feeling. 

In our rather desultory conversation, I was answering their ques- 



PHRENOLOGY. 


339 


tions about America, and philosophizing in traveller style upon the 
differences of our two nations, when I said something about the 
shape of head of the Germans, and the breadth of the front part as 
greater than in the American, corresponding to their greater ideality 
and hopefulness. 

“ What! you do not believe in that, Herr B. ? ” said one. 

“ Certainly I do,” I replied. 

“But is it possible,”said the Candidat from Halle, “ that Phreno¬ 
logy is generally believed in America ? ” 

No ; I told him; it was not. It had been so much employed as 
a humbug, that most sensible people quite doubted it. 

“What is that? Hoombooc! Herr B.,” said one of the ladies. 
“Explain ! ” I translated it as well as I could, for the German lan¬ 
guage is not capable of conveying that compendious term in one 
word. 

“We here believe,” said the theologian, “ that Phrenology is a 
materialistic system; and inconsistent with the idea of the free 
agency, which the Holy Scriptures teach. Besides, to use your own 
word, Germany has found the humbug so much in Phrenology, that 
the educated ( gebildete ) do not have any confidence in it.” 

In reply, I unfolded my own ideas of the science, and I must do 
the Germans the justice to say, that they have the most courteous 
and candid way possible of listening to new theories. If you should 
present an argument which denied your opponent’s identity, or which 
proved that the moon was made of green cheese, a German would 
always listen with attention, as if there was a possibility of there 
being some basis of truth, somewhere in it. I told them, that we 
did not believe that the brain determined the mind, but that certain 
traits or rather tendencies of the soul were connected with certain 
shapes of the head, just as they were with certain shapes of the 



340 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


features. And that the value of the science to me, was not in 
the manipulation, or in the determination of character from the head, 
but in its analysis of human nature. It was the only practical 
mental philosophy which I knew. It was the only one which 
analyzed and put together tendencies (Eigenschaften) of character, 
and showed the results which they form in the every-day develop¬ 
ments of human nature. It did not so much make a strict meta¬ 
physical division of the mental faculties, as it took up and explained 
the separate tendencies, which lie as it were at the basis of each 
soul, and which shape human nature, as it practically is, in the 
various relations of life. The old systems favored abstract thought 
on the human mind, and the searching of one’s deepest conscious¬ 
ness. This concerned itself more with the observation of human 
nature, as it appears around us. I thought its value as a practical 
philosophy could not be better shown, than by the universal use of 
its terms, now through both England and America. 

As to its Craniology, its division of organs on the head, I con¬ 
sidered it defective; yet in its main principles, I had never known 
it fail with any head. 

They all listened very courteously, though I suppose with perfect 
scepticism; and it was proposed I should make a trial on some of 
their heads. 

I may say here, that of all means of entertainment, in a set of 
ale-house tipplers, among a ship’s crew, or in a fashionable drawing¬ 
room, before gentle or simple, I have never found anything half so 
taking, as a phrenological examination. To the traveller, Phreno¬ 
logy is worth a host of accomplishments. 

Though a no very good “ manipulator,” I made some good hits 
here ; and we kept up the laugh for some time, until the old ser- 




COOKERY. 


341 


vant put his head in the door, and bawled, “ The dinner is on the 
table.” 

The dinner in Berlin is usually at one o’clock, except when com¬ 
pany is invited, when it is delayed to three or four o’clock, after the 
business hours are over. Our dining-room here was a high, bare 
room, with walls and ceilings painted in pretty patterns, a tall white 
porcelain stove in one corner, and a sofa, together with a few plain 
articles, by way of furniture. There was no carpet on the floor, and 
the room had in general a naked aspect. It was used mostly as a 
dancing-room. 

The table was very prettily set out; the desert-fruit and flowers 
being in the centre, and a handsome show of Dresden china and of 
graceful dishes, surrounding them. No grace was said; and one 
of the young ladies commenced at once by helping the soup, which 
was passed by the servant. 

“ How find you the German cookery ? ” said the lady next to me, 
in English. I told her, I liked it very much—much better than 
travellers generally do—especially the soups. 

“ The travellers judge so from our guest-houses— inns, I mean; 
where much fat is employed. But have you not the soups ? ” 

“ We had them,” I said, “ but nearly always cooked so as to be 
indigestible.” 

“ That is very unfortunate, for we regard them the healthiest 
victual.” 

After the soup came the boiled beef, cut up in small pieces, and 
handed by the servant to each one. This is eaten without vegeta¬ 
bles. This was succeeded by small bits of a roast chicken passed 
again to each, and eaten with pickles and preserves. The Bordeaux 
red wine was now passed, our host pouring first a few drops in his 
own glass, and then helping his right hand guest. When he pours 



342 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


the last glass, it is the custom for him to empty the last drops also 
into his own glass. This wine is not stronger than claret, which it 
very much resembles. No lady in the company took wine. I ob¬ 
served, that both gentlemen and ladies used finger and teeth on the 
chicken, in primitive fashion—a common habit of ordinary life in 
Germany. Our middle course, was a pudding and sauce, after which 
came the great dish of roast beef, the only meat carved by the host 
at the table, eaten with various vegetables. 

“ Is this quite different from your home dinners ? ” said the lady 
at my side again. 

“ Oh, yes; ” I replied, and described our American meals. 

“ So! pudding last! how droll! But which think you most 
healthy?” 

I thought the German diet, especially as her countrymen did not 
eat so much pies and pastry, as we Americans; and despite the 
long meals, were not so hearty eaters. 

“ Ach ! Here comes the dish of dishes !—the— pardon ! how 
call you it ? ” 

“ Salad ! ” and each one set to work, preparing his mixture, as 
for the especial dish of the day. Through the courses, all ate very 
slowly, and conversation continued in the liveliest manner. 

“ Now, confess ! Herr B.; is not this infinitely more com/ortahble , 
than the rich English dinners ? ” 

“ That is a genuine English word, you know,” said I, “ and the 
English think they have comfort in perfection.” 

“ Ach ! no;” she replied,” I have been at those dinners in Eng¬ 
land. They are horrible! So stiff. I could not dare to say, once! 
We Germans do not find comfort in sofas, and carpets, and the wine ; 
our comfort is in friends and conversation, and in the feeling. You 
know our word. I find it better— gemuthlick .” 



COFFEE. 


343 


Our last course was black unbolted rye bread and butter, with a 
little fruit and confectionery, and after some farther chatting, the 
whole company went to the drawing-room, for the coffee, and the 
gentlemen to smoke. 

“ How much more pleasant is this,” said my companion as we 
went out, “ as your English way to leave the gentlemen to drink and 
talk without ladies—as if you were ashamed.” 

“ I think so too;” I replied, “ we seldom do that in America. 
But how can you housekeepers bear this smoking in your par¬ 
lors ? I should think you would be obliged to smoke yourself, for 
defence.” 

“ No ? Why should we oppose it ? Is it not better for them to 
be in habit to smoke with us, than without us ? Beside it never 
trouble me. I like it now. But do not think we smoke. No re 
spectable lady smokes.” 

“ I see Fraiilein N. is making the coffee,” said I, “ Do you never 
leave it to servants ?” 

“ Oh no,” she replied, “ it would never be so good. We always 
make it fresh on the table, for it must not long kochen —what is 
the word—boil. It only drops very slowly through a—a—cross 
ing of—” 

“ Sieve,” I suggested. 

“ Ja! a sieve and paper very thin. But have you good coffee in 
America ?” 

“ No ; not often. I have very seldom drank good coffee, at least 
in a hotel. We do not know how to make it.” 

“ Here is your coffee. You must put no cream in it, but sugar 
much. Will you light your cigar ?” 

u Danke Ihnen .” 



344 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


“ Have you not as yet learned, Herr B., that thank you , in Ger¬ 
man, always means, nein— no P 

I told her I ought to have learned, for I had lost many a dish 
at public tables, by saying DanTce ! to the servants when they of¬ 
fered it. 

After our coffee, came various games and merrimakings till even¬ 
ing. Other friends called with presents and mementoes to the Frau 
Mutter ; good wishes were said and pleasant speeches made, and at 
length, after a hearty supper at 10 o’clock, on broiled sturgeon and 
Bavarian beer, the company broke up, with abundance of Adieus 
and Empfehle michs, and Good byes for me. 

On reaching my lodgings, I found I had left my key inside—a 
rather blank prospect, as it would be too late probably to find a 
room in a hotel. In the midst of my cogitations, I heard a cry far 
up-street of “ Wachter /” and I remembered there was a useful 
member of the community, who patrolled the streets at night, with 
keys of the houses, to be furnished for a few groschen , to any luck¬ 
less individual, who was locked out like myself. 

So I commenced in a stentorian voice, “ Wachter , Wd-d-chter /” 

“ What the devil are you yelling in that way for ?” said a voice 
close by, and I found one of the night-police in helmet and sword 
just behind me, looking in anything but a Christian humor. 

I answered shortly that “ I wanted to get in !” 

“ Well, you need not make such a-of a noise, if you do!” 

“ Every one does it, I hear the cry every night,” said I, as the 
Wachter came up and turned the lock, “ and you might learn a more 
civil way of addressing a stranger!” I added, at the same time, dis¬ 
creetly getting inside the door. 




CHAPTER XXXIY. 


THE UNIVERSITY-RATIONALISM. 

An account of Berlin society as it appeal's to an American, would 
be altogether incomplete without speaking of th* many American 
students who are attending the University, and who have met in 
such pleasant circles this winter at the houses of Mr. Barnard, 
our Ambassador, and of Mr. Fay. They are in general very inte’li- 
gent, gentlemanly fellows, and far better representatives of our 
country than one usually meets in the travelling public of Europe. 
A large proportion are from our Southern States. 

The choice of studies among the working part of these young 
men here and in other universities of Germany is remarkable, and 
seems almost to show a new tendency in our studying classes. One 
for instance is engaged in investigating the whole family of lan¬ 
guages related to the Anglo-Saxon, with a view of explaining the 
early English literature ; another is at work on the Sanscrit and kin¬ 
dred tongues, with a special reference to philology; others on the 
study of music as a science ; others on the higher branches of che¬ 
mistry ; and one with an enthusiasm most worthy of success has 
travelled through many difficulties to Berlin to gather the documents 
for a Life of Beethoven , and intends even to walk to Vienna to col¬ 
lect the last materials for his work. 

15 * 


346 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


The day has probably passed by in our country, in which such 
studies as these can be objected to as “ unpractical.” It is begin¬ 
ning to be seen that human life is made up of a great many parts, 
and helped on by a great many different pursuits, and that Sanscrit 
has its place among them as well as shoe-making. For one I am 
rejoiced at the work these men are doing. The reproach against 
our nation in an intellectual respect has been its superficiality—and 
without doubt, often deserved. Such workers as these, for they are 
hearty, faithful students, will do much with the immense advantages 
offered by German libraries to remove this reproach, and to give a 
more thorough direction to the Mind of our country. Nor is there 
danger to be feared for our students, from the influence of foreign 
institutions in Germany. If anything would make a man republi¬ 
can or disposed to give the very highest value to the “ practical,” it 
would be an experience of the infinite confusions and inefficiency 
which appear now in German affairs, and of the political oppression 
which curses the people. 

Whatever may be said of the older students, there is a most de¬ 
cided objection to the practice, now beginning to be common in our 
country, of sending boys to these foreign Universities. Not to men¬ 
tion the want of sympathy it almost invariably causes with our own 
institutions in the student’s mind; and the weakening influence it 
has on his power to use his own language—a loss not to be replaced 
by a knowledge of all the foreign languages in existence;—it is be¬ 
side a most terrible experiment. No one has any idea of the dan¬ 
gers which surround a young man in these foreign Universities. 
Even in the worst of our Colleges there is some glimmering of the 
good old religious influences of our fathers ; there is the restraint of 
acquaintances and the fear of future loss of reputation. Here, of 
all these good influences, there is scarcely one which can still work. 



THE UNIVERSITY. 


347 


Some of our good parents appear to have a great confidence in 
Berlin, as the centre-of Protestantism, and in its orthodox influences. 
But it is a most sad mistake. In my view there is but one city 
more dangerous to a young man, on the Continent—Paris. And 
Berlin is only better than Paris in that vice here is more gross, and 
therefore more offensive. 

In regard to Berlin, as a place of study, it is difficult to advise. 
The choice of a University depends so much on the personal plans 
of each student. There is no doubt that the Berlin University is 
not by any means equal to what it was a few years since. The loss 
of such men as Neander, and Jacobi, and Lachmann in one year 
has made no slight difference. Still, now, in all branches there is 
quite enough of talent to satisfy even the most fastidious student. 
Where such men as Ranke, and Ritter, and Bockh, and Bopp, 
and Hengstenberg teach, there can be no very great deficiency 
The usual course among the foreign students is to try different Uni¬ 
versities, avoiding Berlin in the summer, as it is an exceedingly hot, 
unpleasant city at that season. The expense of living in Beilin is 
small compared with that of our own cities, yet it is nearly double 
the expense of the smaller University towns. A student could live 
here very comfortably I think, on $300 a year, including the cost of 
clothing and every necessary article except books. 

As a place for learning German, Berlin is not at all to be recom¬ 
mended. There are so many Americans and Englishmen whom one 
would not, if he could, avoid; so many Germans who speak excel¬ 
lent English; and it is so difficult to board in any private family, 
where practice in the language could be gained, that almost every 
foreigner residing here, finds his progress in German very slow. 
Still as a place where German fife in its most interesting aspect can 
be observed, where German politics and religious movements can be 



348 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


best studied, where Music in its highest forms can be enjoyed, where 
the most intellectual and accomplished society of the Continent has 
gathered itself, Berlin is of all others, the city to be chosen by a for¬ 
eigner for a residence. 

I cannot bid good-bye to Berlin without speaking of a gentleman 
there to whom every American who has been of late years in that 
city must feel sincerely grateful,— Mr. Theodore S. Fay , at present 
the Secretary of the Embassy. A man in whom fifteen years of 
diplomatic life have not worn away manly simplicity and truth 
of character; one in whom we can see that the purest Christian 
traits are not inconsistent with the refinement and accomplishments of 
a man of the world. A genuine whole-hearted republican too, well 
representing our country. He is the last to wish to be spoken of 
in this public way; yet I cannot refrain from giving utterance to 
what I know is the sentiment of most Americans who have resided 
in Berlin with regard to him. 


Before leaving North Germany, it is right that I should give my 
general impressions of a very important subject; and yet it is a dif¬ 
ficult matter, on which to speak. I refer to the Religious Character 
of the German people. Religious Principle is not at all to be tested, 
as many are accustomed to test it. Its manifestations must be as 
various, as are the forms of human nature. No local and external 
measure can fit its infinite developments. Especially is this true of 
the intellectual expression of religion. Believing that the worst 
heart may Rejoined with the purest creed, and that a simple, loving 
Faith may be connected to the most wild and crude opinions ; con¬ 
scious that in our practice and instincts, we often reject what we 



RELIGIOUS CHARACTER. 


349 


professedly believe, I would never test a religious character by its 
usual language of expression, or by its avowed system of belief. 

I had thought it possible, that even under the wild theories, the 
unsparing criticism, the apparent Skepticism of the Germans, I might 
Snd in practical life, the humble, fervent, loving heart, worshipping 
almost unconsciously to itself, the Infinite Being. But I am com¬ 
pelled to say, in my experience thus far with the mass of the people, 
I am disappointed. Religion does not enter as a great element into 
society in Germany. It is not a principle any one considers, in esti¬ 
mating the influences at work on the people. Few appeal to it, or 
speak of it as one of the great facts in human life. Very little seems 
to be sacrificed for its great objects. There are seldom enterprises 
under it for the poor, and the helpless, and the unhappy. Not much 
is given or suffered, through its impulse. There is seldom expressed 
worship. In fact, I do not believe there is a heathen land where 
less outward ceremony of worship is seen. The churches are half 
empty, and one beholds the painful sight of a church attended only 
by women and children , as if Religion was a thing belonging only to 
the weaker part of the race. It is not that the men one meets are 
bitterly hostile to religious truth, or abusive towards it; but there 
is a sort of deadness to the whole subject among them, an indif¬ 
ference, or a kind of smiling, quiet incredulity, which comes over one 
chillingly and sadly.—Of course there are numerous exceptions to 
this. Men with whom we can have the delightful consciousness that 
in distant lands, under foreign languages and a different culture, 
there is a certain bond of sympathy and principles and common 
hopes uniting us; about which little can be said in words, but which 
forms one of the most pleasing evidences of a common Christian 
Faith. And I believe, that in many of the families, the beautiful 
home-virtues—the Affection, and Self-sacrifice, and cheerful for- 



350 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


bearance and geniality, are the appropriate expressions of their Love 
to Christ; perhaps even higher than our bolder and more heroic 
expressions. In what I have said, I speak only of the mass of the 
people. 

There are favorite aspects, however, to the effects of this Ration¬ 
alism. It seems to me it has done away with intellectual narrow¬ 
ness very much from the theological circles. No one dares to step 
out on the arena now in Germany, with a crude, bigoted, ill-equipped 
opinion. He knows if it cannot stand the attacks of the sharpest 
criticism and the most vigorous philosophy, it must go down—no 
matter if all the authority of ages is at hand to back it. The con- - 
sequence is, the theological mind of Germany is very well furnished, 
and possesses a certain candid mode of looking at subjects, a certain 
readiness to acknowledge Truth wherever it is, which has not been 
a general virtue in the theological class. I meet a great many who 
belong to the strictest of the orthodox, the most extreme “ Pietisten 
and who hold the Evangelical views with ail the strength and depth 
of feeling any one could desire, yet I have nearly always found them 
men of real liberality, ready to admit that their own particular view 
did not embrace all of the truth, and disposed to see what there 
was of truth in opposite views. Certainly in no country of the 
world could a Theological History be written like that which has 
appeared here within a few years from Hagenbach —a work so 
clear and strong in its own religious purpose, yet recognizing so can¬ 
didly even in the vagaries of a Schiller, or the Romanism of a 
Schlegel, all that there is good and noble in them. 

The man whose spirit, as we believe, most works now in Ger¬ 
many, modifying the influences of Rationalism, and reaching those 
who are world-wide from him in their theories or their philosophy, 
is Schleiermacher. His philosophy is passing by, his merciless 



SCHLEIERMACHER. 


351 


criticism has lost its power, his daring speculations are scattered 
to the wind ; but that simple, fervent spirit, that candid, truth-lov¬ 
ing mind, that life so thoroughly imbued and inspired with the one 
great Truth, which, as we believe, has been the life and the inspi¬ 
ration of the best spirits through all ages—the truth of “ God man¬ 
ifest in the flesh,” of God, made near to man through human 
sympathies and a human life—this all works, and will not soon 
cease to work through the German people 







CHAPTER XXXV. 


SOUTH-GERMANYAGAIN. 

“ Es ist ein harter Schluss 
Weil ich aus Berlin muss! 

So schlag ’ich Berlin aus dem Sinn 
Und wende mich. Gott weiss ! wohin; 

Ich will mein Gluck probiren, 

Marschiren.” 

So humming the student-song, I bade good-bye to Berlin. My 
friends had parted from me, as only German friends will; and I felt 
almost like leaving home for strangers again. It is the hardest part 
of traveling, that you just build up a satisfactory friendship, when it 
is all demolished, and you go on to new experiences. And it is 
hardest of all in Germany, where confidence and kindness are so 
freely shown the stranger. 

I have found Dresden in its full spring beauty—so green, sunny, 
quiet, trustful—a beautiful city now. The parks and gardens and 
squares full of pleasant groups, the women sitting sewing, and the 
children playing in the sunlight, or listening to the bands of music. 

Oh! when will an American city learn so to provido-for its free pop¬ 
ulation, health, beauty, broad fields and cheerful landscapes, as these 
German princes have done for their subjects ? 


CHILDREN’S GARDEN. 


353 


Among the other sights I have come upon, is a children's garden . 
A merry company of children, in bright dresses, are dancing on 
the hard ground round a pole, hung with flowers, under the instruc¬ 
tion of a spruce dancing-master. Others swinging, rolling the hoop, 
or running through the paths 5 others at some pretty calisthenic exer¬ 
cises under the trees. There are a few candy and cake tables on the 
outskirts. Only two or three nurses have the charge of them, though 
there must be nearly fifty children there. It appears, the mothers 
club together, hire the nurses and the garden, in order to save the 
expense of separate nurses, and at the same time to secure healthful 
open air sports for the children—an idea, perhaps, worth something 
for our large cities. 


April. 

I have just dined with Rev. Dr.-, one of the most popular 

and distinguished preachers in Germany. He laments, as usual, the 
want of any earnest Christian life among the people, and especially 
among the young men. You never meet a young man with any 
high, noble aims, unless it is professional to have them—the result, 
he says, of German Rationalism. He thinks we are getting, in 
America, a very bad importation of Rationalistic German Theology. 
He asked me what I thought of the present political condition of Ger¬ 
many. I told him candidly, and expressed how faint my hopes 
were for the future. 

“ It has seemed to me possible,” said I, “ that the German race has 
played out its part in the world’s history—that it has irretrievably 
degenerated, lost its vigor, manliness, energy. We know such 
instances constantly occur in history. Look at the old Spaniards, 




354 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


and the Dutch and Italian Republics, and compare the same peoples 
and cities now. Perhaps it is so with Germany. Perhaps, until 
this race is united with some more vigorous, it will continue to be¬ 
come more and more weak and inefficient. I must confess, I am 
astonished on every side, at the practical weakness of your people. 
Even those, who know their rights, have no spirit in asserting 
them!” 

“ A bad outlook, certainly, for us ! ” said he. “ You may be right. 
Such things have been. Alas, for poor Germany ! Bad government, 
and especially this universal irreligion, have brought this about I 
But, mein lieber Herr, have you no fears for your own country— 
look at your Sclaverei! (Slavery.) I must say that if that does 
ruin your country, we in the old world, shall lose faith in Humanity! 
It seems to me, sometimes, yours is the last experiment in self-gov¬ 
ernment—that grand English word !—who would ever trust it, if 
you fail ? ” 

In reply, I detailed at length our difficulties in that matter, and 
my hopes, ultimately, of a change. 

He hoped also; “ but it is a strange fact,” said he, “ and one thaf 
much shakes my hopes, that during all ages Republics have rested 
on a basis of slaves ! I have thought that it might be almost ne¬ 
cessary to the system—one class made intelligent and free, by being 
freed from menial labor through the service of another.” 

I was able easily to show him, that our Republic differed essen¬ 
tially in this from the Classic States; that Slavery with us was rather 
a fungus, an evil from without, than a foundation. 

I suppose it is said over in public speeches at home, no less than 
fifty-two times in the year at least, that the United States is the 
great example to the tyrannical Governments of Europe, and the 
hope and comfort to the oppressed, &c., &c. And possibly soma 



OUR EXAMPLE. 


355 


of us have heard it so much, that we begin to doubt whether it 
is so true after all. But if one will only mingle with the various 
classes of Europe, the low as well as the high; if he will really get 
hold somewhat of the thought and feeling of men, he will not only 
never doubt the truth of such expressions, but he will feel that he 
never began even faintly to realize them. The existence of our Re¬ 
public is a stubborn, unconquerable fact, which speaks more to the 
minds of the masses here, than volumes of argument. The sup¬ 
porters of the arbitrary forms of Government may prove most con¬ 
clusively that our Constitution is defective, that Republics are not 
consistent with the highest development of man. They may bring 
forth beautifully the theories of monarchy, and show the divinity of 
its origin, and almost demonstrate its necessity to mankind—but 
there, ever in the background of their theories, looms up over in the 
West, the great prosperous Free State of the age—the undeniable 
happy existence of a self-governed people. No argument can get 
around it. There it is ! People have become so well informed on 
these matters, that here in Germany for instance, no discussion is 
ever carried oil in the Parliaments, or through pamphlets, on any 
great change of Government, without at once the example of the 
United States being adduced. I am struck with that, as I attempt 
to penetrate the immense mass of pamphlets and “ Debates,” which 
any one must work through who would understand German poli¬ 
tics. The first thing to be overthrown by the Legitimist writer or 
orator, and the first to be presented by the Democratic, is nearly 
always the practice in our Republic, and the success of such and 
such a provision under our Government. And the orators in the 
German “ Kammer ,” will not unfrequently discuss an article in our 
Constitution with as much spirit, if not with the same objects, as 
the members of our House of Representatives at home. 



356 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


But I am bound to say, there is another side to this picture. 
America is known widely—her glory and her prosperity ; yet there 
is one stain on her escutcheon which is blazoned still more widely— 
Slavery. I sometimes think the German papers take a real pleasure 
in giving details about this evil of ours. Some foreign journals, the 
Russian, for instance, contain more about our slavery difficulties, 
than any one subject connected with our country. The first objec¬ 
tion you meet in an anti-democratic pamphlet against the “ Model 
Republic,” is the system of oppression within it. I have often won¬ 
dered to myself, how a Southern gentleman could ever travel through 
Europe with any comfort. There is scarcely a drawing-room on the 
Continent, where, if the subject of the United States is brought up, 
one will not hear one voice of indignation against the system of 
slavery. Through all the best circles, among the noblest and best 
men, in every land, and especially in Great Britain—men whom 
the traveller would most like to associate with—the universal feel¬ 
ing is, if not of indignation, of something still more annoying—of 
pity for the supporters of such an institution 1 How often have I, 
within the first fifteen minutes of acquaintance, been asked about 
that great evil in our society; and it is such a comfort to be able to 
explain that I have no part or parcel therein, that my government 
has none, that the responsibility rests not with us, and that there is 
many a man among us, who gladly would lay down fortune and 
life to aid in doing it away, if there were any possibility of success. 
No one can imagine the public opinion of civilized Europe, nil he is 
here, on this matter. Indeed, I must be allowed to say, the tone 
of the whole civilized world, is far higher and nobler on this ques¬ 
tion, than even that of our free States 




A GERMAN LADY. 


357 


Probably, much that my friend the clergyman said, of the want 
of religious earnestness among the young men is true. It corres¬ 
ponds with my own observations in North Germany. Still, let the 
German spontaneity and a clear sense and sound Christian principle 
go together, and there spring up the most beautiful combinations of 
character I have ever seen—natures such as are seldom found under 
our English civilization. I have just been making a visit to 

Madame-, to me a marked example of this. I extract from a 

letter— 

“ On reaching the town where she lived, i at once left my card and 
letters, rambled about, delivered other letters—and called again in the 
evening; my introductions were from her mother and sisters whom 

I knew well in-; and I had a letter, also, to her husband, 

a young scientific man of note; so that we had many common 
topics. We fell at once into the midst of things—a conversation 
easy but • under the surface, and leaving something to be remem¬ 
bered when it was over. I spent tha evening there, and was 
invited to a supper-party the next—dined there the day after, and 
then went to a famous Castle with them, and staid till a late hour 
the last evening. 

“ I have never known a woman with so happy a balancing of qual¬ 
ities, and yet so little extraordinary. 

“ Imagine an oval face, a fine, soft complexion, fine auburn hair, 
nose slightly retrousse , yet not too small, good forehead, with the 
head rising nobly over it; ‘Benevolence,’ full, as a phrenologist 
would describe it; Ideality, large; the emotive faculties full, and 
the passionate, moderate; Comparison and the logical, large; and 
hazel eyes, full of feeling and thought, working continually in a 





358 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


quick, eager way; a mouth, just half on the edge of running over 
into a laugh, and a tall, full woman’s form. 

“ She has a true woman’s wit—that sort of playful, fine warding 
off, and quick catching of others’ expression, but without the least 
sharpness to it—always under the control of the kindest feelings. 
But her glory and beauty, and that which speaks so in ever-chang¬ 
ing language in her face, is that overflowing life, and interest in 
others, her geniality, the highest trait, or result of many traits in 
any human character; yet in her, accompanied with an exceedingly 
sharp, instinctive, keen knowledge of human nature. One gets the 
idea of no soft amiability in her, no blind benevolence ; and at the 
same time, not as in our New England geniality, of a kindness, the 
result of a sense of duty. It is natural, keen, overflowing, genial— 
not exactly affectionate, or passionate, or principled—a happy com¬ 
bination of all. 

“ Then add a mind, very highly cultivated—independent, worked 
out opinions—strong moral sentiments—much ideality, coloring all 
her language and thought, but even more reason to limit them—a 
vitality, as of ardent, healthy youth, but always very tasteful and 
beautiful, and a great musical talent—and have we not a happy 
product ? I have not exaggerated a single trait, except as one must 
necessarily in writing, abbreviate. 

“ Her husband is utterly unlike her. Calm, solid, deep in his learn¬ 
ing—no ideality—and as yet from his easy disposition, led by her 
greater life, though in the end, his solidity may outbalance her activity. 
Manly, in that he had just as lief others should see, she led him. 

“ She talked of his foibles and of educating him, and of their edu- 
eating one other, laughingly told me of a way he had of being 
stupid at precisely a certain hour in the evening, and wanting to go 
to bed, and how she had broken him of his habit!—described to 



GERMAN TRAITS. 


35S 


us how he would keep up his puns after they were married, which 
was insufferable—before, an attention, now a bore! 

“ Is not all this truly German, with a two days’ acquaintance! 

“Her husband is aliberal Constitutionalist; but she is a Republi¬ 
can, as fully as I am myself. She is almost the first German woman, 
I have seen, who has the deep indignation of a generous heart at these 
crushing wrongs in her Fatherland. Her religion is very simple 
and fervent, yet utterly and entirely separated from all necessary 
bonds to form and externality, a mingling of Freedom and Faith, 
such as I have seldom met. She and her husband are deeply in¬ 
terested in efforts for the poor; in Sabbath Schools, and charitable 
movements here—the first instance of the kind I have encountered 
among the learned laity. Her very strong love for home, and for 
every detail about it, was truly German. 

“We talked infinitely in those three days, and I know her better 
than I do many years’ acquaintances. She speaks English beauti¬ 
fully, though we generally spoke German. 

“ The charm of her is, that happy mingling of animal, cheerful, 
genial traits, with real earnestness of character. She is one, who 
wins her servants and the lowest as well as her equals, to herself,— 
not because she tries, nor because she does it to please her own van¬ 
ity, or for effect, or for duty, but because her nature flows out thus 
kindly towards all. Then with this, working continually, is a clear¬ 
sighted intellect and deep religious sense. 

“ The memory is a light over my path. I remember not so much 
a noble, or an intellectual, or a witty spirit, as a genial, clear-Keaded, 
refined, religious woman, who met me a stranger, as a friend. I 
shall never see her, and may never hear of her again. But I am 
grateful that God has created a few such happy combinations of 
qualities, and that I have known the embodiment!” * * * 



CHAPTEK XXXVI. 


PRAGUE. 

I never remember to have taken a more interesting railroad ride 
than on the route between Dresden and Prague. The road, for the 
great part of the way, winds up the valley of the Elbe, through the 
u Saxon Switzerland.” The first few miles are in the open country 
on the banks of the Elbe, with the green hills, covered with the 
vine, rising on the other side. But gradually the river is forced in 
between the mountains, and the track is obliged to accompany it, 
and we found ourselves puffing along right under immense jagged 
precipices, then cutting through in a dark tunnel a rocky promontory 
then rushing across, on solid bridges, some bend of the stream, with 
the wildest of scenery around us. It was like a railway through the 
Alps. If any one of my readers has travelled up the Naugatuck 
road in Connecticut, or followed the lower valley of the Wye, in 
England, he will have, on a smaller scale, a very good idea of the 
Dresden and Prague Railroad. This road has only been opened a 
week, and I could see all along the route, signs of the grand cele¬ 
bration they have just had at its first opening—great festoons of 
evergreens and flowers over the station houses, and varieties of deco¬ 
rations everywhere. By its completion, the traveller can leave Ber¬ 
lin at 1 o’clock in the morning, reach Dresden at 12, stop an hour 


THE RAILROAD. 


381 


and a half, and be in Prague by 9 o’clock in the evening, and, 
spending the night in Prague, can reach Vienna the next evening, 
so that the two. capitals are, in fact, within thirty hours distance of 
one another. Many hopes are felt for the great Bohemian city from 
this line, and it is thought her manufactures will now pour them¬ 
selves more freely into the Northern Zollverein. 

The road seemed well-built, and must necessarily have been very 
expensive. This makes no difference, however, in the prices, as the 
Austrian railroads are all government property, and the fares fixed 
without reference to the cost of building. On this and most of 
their roads I have known, the price for the second class passengers— 
which perhaps represents the average—is 11 kreutzers per German 
mile, which is about 2J cents the English mile. The seats in the 
Austrian cars in the second and third classes, are arranged like ours. 
The first class has coupes , or little separate compartments, each with 
two or three seats. 

One of the most striking objects on the route was the immense 
fortress of Konigsstein , perched on what seems an utterly inaccessi¬ 
ble precipice. It boasts, you know, of being the only inexpugna¬ 
ble fortress of Europe, and has formed the refuge, many a time, 
of the Saxon kings and their treasures. In modern warfare, such a 
strong-hold is of no great importance, and would hardly repay the 
trouble of taking. 

As we passed the Austrian borders, I felt the excitement which 
every traveller feels at entering a land he has heard of so often, and 
where such new forms of life will open to him, and I looked 
eagerly out of the windows to see if there was anything in the 
appearance of the country, to remind one of the old bigoted Em¬ 
pire. The first objects peculiar were the multitude of saints’ 
images and crucifixes along the road. At every turn of the 



362 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


track, and on every high point of the banks, these memorials 
met the eye. The white-coated officers, too, appeared in the 
villages, and the Bohemian language could be heard oftener at 
the stations. The Austrian paper began to show itself, and I had 
my first sight of a little expedient which surprised me much at the 
time, though I have found it common enough since. I bought a 
trifle of a woman standing by the cars, and handed her a bank bill 
of six kreutzers, (about four cents). The article cost three kreutzers, 
and she tore off half, and gave me the other half! I saw a man 
afterwards tear a ten kreutzer into four pieces, and pass them in the 
same way. No one passed or received silver. 

The talk of the people also around me sounded more “Austrian.” 
They were discussing that question of questions for their country, the 
currency—and what the Gulden were worth, and the chances of 
bankruptcy, &c. I ought to mention here for the benefit of travel¬ 
lers, that my Prussian gold and paper brought me a premium of 
about thirty-three per cent! 

I was very glad from the conversation going on around, to get 
some idea of this perplexing Austrian currency—this “ Gulden- 
schein ” and “ Guldenmunz ,” and these complicated kreutzers and 
groschens. A man has to keep a sharp look out, or he will be con¬ 
tinually paying Munz for Schein, or in other words, two and a half 
times as much as he should. The innkeepers have a way of pre¬ 
senting their bills in “ Schein money,” and the unlucky traveller will 
be paying over in an extravagant manner, until he remembeus that 
he settles in Munz. That is, if the bill is ten Gulden Schein , it 
means four Gulden common money—a very considerable difference 
in a long bill. 

Another very characteristic thing in the cars, was the conversa¬ 
tion of two men near me over the new Tobacco Law and the “ cursed 



FIRST VIEW. 


303 


monopoly.” “ A man could not even smoke his pipe now, without 
being taxed by the Government!” 

It was a beautiful sunny spring afternoon as we rushed over 
the railroad bridge at Prague, and the first sight of that crowd 
of towers and Moorish domes and turrets, as they rose one above 
the other on the hill side, crowned by what seemed a mosque on 
the summit'*, or stretched away on the other bank of the river among 
the multitude of houses, was very striking. I had at length reached 
the antique Bohemian capital—once the Paris of an old civilization, 
and now filled with monuments which make it, perhaps, the most 
interesting city of Europe. An interest which is increased by the 
strange movements of which it has been the centre during these last 
few years. 

Thinking over such matters, and quite ready to be interested 
in anything, I walked out after engaging a room in a hotel, to see 
the old city. Not having any guide with me—and not wanting 
any—I wandered around quite at random in the narrow old streets. 
In fact, among all the pleasures of travelling, I know hardly a greater, 
than the first independent wandering through the streets of one of 
the old historic cities. You do not feel obliged to learn anything. 
You are not bored with guide books, or guides. You are decipher¬ 
ing yourself all the while, the thousand strange inscriptions written 
all around you; written in various architectures, in the style of the 
monuments, in the age of the buildings, and even in the faces and 
bearing of the inhabitants. I have found by experience, that the 
Past never comes before one’s mind as in these first few moments, 
and I lay more value on these first impressions, than all the guide 
book information afterwards. The next time you see the hoary 
monument and crumbling walls with Murray in hand, or with mo¬ 
notonous “ Commissionaire ” at your elbow, exploring their history— 



364 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


their glory has all departed, and you see nothing but very sooty 
stones or common-place statues ; and are quite likely, in the midst 
of the most entrancing historic associations, to be speculating on the 
chances of the next election at home, or wondering whether it is not 
time for “ lunch.” 


THE OLD BRIDGE AT PRAGUE. 

I had not rambled long before I came on—what is perhaps the 
most interesting object in this interesting city—the old Bridge over 
the Moldau. You know the Moldau separates Prague into two 
parts, the old city and the “ Kleine Seite ,” (Little Side). These two 
quarters are connected by two bridges, one beautiful modern chain- 
bridge, and this solid, ancient structure. 

This is lined at the distance of every four feet, with statues and 
images. They are rough affairs, and peculiarly battered in the 
various bombardments which Prague has undergone, and especially 
in the Revolutionary contests of 1848. Still they are very charac¬ 
teristic, and speak forcibly of the long history and of the superstition 
of the nation. The turbaned Turk, and his companions the demons 
appear frequently, and are really terribly dealt with by the artists, 
while the saints always figure in great glory. There is one of the 
monuments which, though coarse, shows a good deal of power. 
You see a dark hole in one of the stone buttresses, with a fierce-look- 
ingTurk on one side, and a ravenous dog, just springing forward, on 
the other; within the hole are three saints, whose faces just appear, 
and really more dolorous, forlorn-looking visages one seldom sees. 
They are praying. Above, forming the statue for the bridge, is a 
group of Christ and some of his apostles, breaking the chains of pri- 




THE BRIDGE. 


365 


soners, and apparently about to descend to the three saints in the 
dungeon. The great statue of the bridge is JYepomuc/c's, who seems 
almost the patron Saint of Prague. This is of bronze, with five 
stars about the head to represent those which appeared on the water 
when he was drowned. He seems, from all accounts, to have been a 
very good man in the middle ages, and to have been thrown into 
the river from the bridge, because he opposed one of their Kings in 
some way. There is a difference of tradition about him. But there 
seems little doubt he met his ’death in a manly rebuke of the 
King’s vices. 

I stopped some time near his statue, to get the whole aspect of 
the scene. It was a curious mingling of the new and old. There 
was the venerable bridge, with its battered and quaint images—-the 
same old bridge that Wallenstein’s forces had tramped over, and 
where many a hard fought fight between burgers on one side, and 
the garrison on the hill, on the other, had swayed to and fro. Now, 
% handsome modern carriages with liveries, and new hacks, such as 
one sees in London or New York, of the prettiest styles, were hur¬ 
rying over. Yet, right alongside of them—the oldest sight to me 
in all Prague—were sane, keen-looking men of this nineteenth cen¬ 
tury, walking, and taking off their hats reverently to this image of 
Nepomuck! I watched for some time, what kind of men especially 
did this—and though, of course, the lower class were most particu¬ 
lar in the matter, yet men of all ranks and classes seemed to do the 
same. It was my first experience of a genuine Catholic people— 
and I went away wondering. 

The evening drew on, in these rambles, and I hastened to a 
friend’s house, where I had left my letter of introduction and a 
card, during the day. I had been long expected, and it did not 
need many minutes, with the truly German sociability, for us all to 



366 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY 


be on the best of terms. A number of their friends came in, in the 
course of the evening,—mostly Professors in the University,—and 
the conversation soon fell on the Bohemian school system. These 
gentlemen were German professors, invited by the Austrian govern¬ 
ment to this University, and what is more singular still—Protest¬ 
ants. Their remarks on the general cultivation and school arrange¬ 
ments in Bohemia were anything but complimentary. They describe 
the teachers as wretchedly paid, till within a year, in all the common 
schools, and the Gymnasia, or schools preparatory to the University, 
as in a miserable condition. 

The Austrian Government, they tell me, has been making, this 
last year, immense efforts at reform—and the first change in the 
Universities has just commenced. These are now all put on the 
same basis as the German Universities—that is, the studies are thrown 
open to the students, and they are allowed to choose their own field 
to work upon, and are free from all restraint, except the examina¬ 
tions necessary for entering most of the professions. 

Another change, too, which has exceedingly gratified the Bohe¬ 
mians, is the putting the Bohemian language on an equality with 
the German, in all public schools and universities. So that there 
are a good number of lectures now delivered in this university, in 
the Cheski tongue. The students, according to the account of these 
gentlemen, are very poorly prepared for a university course, and the 
labor of a professor is much less pleasant than in a German Univer¬ 
sity. These divisions of Nationality have even affected society, and 
this divides itself into the German and Sclavonic, which is unfortu¬ 
nate, especially as the Germans are so few in number. The Bohe¬ 
mian part, according to all accounts, is much inferior to the other, in 
cultivation. 

It was related, by one of the party, as a sign of the feeling pro- 



SLAVONIC MOVEMENTS. 


367 


vailing through many in the town, that a friend of his, a man of 
considerable influence in the Slavonic party, had recently had a seal 
made, with the figure of a Cossack above, and below the words 
“ Immer nach dem Westen /” “ Ever towards the West /” 

These impulses for a Slavonic Nationality, of which Prague was 
the centre in 1848, and by which it is still agitated, are to me, one 
of the most singular developments in history. I do not understand 
them. 

They were first carried out into action in 1848, and produced 
most momentous effects. The old kingdom of Hungary was shaken 
by them into disjointed fragments. Bohemia itself, was split off 
from Austria. Their influence reached Poland and the provinces 
of Russia, and even the principalities of the Danube, wherever a 
tribe of the old Slavonic stock yet lived. 

If these Slavonic tribes had been of one language and religion, 
all this, though remarkable, would have been less strange. But with 
many of these tribes, it would have needed the scent of an ethno¬ 
logist to determine that they belonged to one “ nationality.” Their 
religions were different, and their languages—though all of the 
same family—now so unlike, that in the great Slavonic Congress in 
Prague, in 1848, the different members could not even understand 
one another, and a foreign tongue was the organ of the much hoped- 
for “Union.” 

Their interests and their past history were widely separate. Yet 
was the movement very deep and far reaching. It affected some of 
the first minds of the Slavonic race; and the Slavonic literature here 
in Prague and elsewhere, has shown in these last few years such a 
progress, as it has not since the time of its bloom in the twelfth and 
thirteenth centuries. To our ideas, the movement seems fantastic 
and useless—hardly more singular and unpractical, if the whole 



368 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


Celtic race (the Highlanders in Scotland, the Irish, the Oriental 
tribes from which they sprang, all who anywhere belong to that 
stem), should unite and agitate to form a great “Celtic national¬ 
ity !” I consider it as one of those visions for which these people in 
Middle Europe have so often lost realities. They have fought for 
“ nationalities,” and have forgotten Freedom. 



CHAPTER XXXVI. 


WALK TO THE LAURENZIBERG. 

I mudt confess it—more interesting to me than the old Bridge; 
more than Huss’s pulpit, or Nepomuck’s Statue, or Wallenstein’s 
Horse, or the Kradschin Palace, was a certain clear-sighted, genial 
woman, and an accomplished, intelligent man, here in Prague, 
true children of this nineteenth century. I met them a stranger, 
and left them such friends, as I scarcely have in Europe. It is diffi¬ 
cult, except with people of peculiar culture, to meet on all points 
under a foreign language. There is always something coming up 
at an unexpected moment, which strikes one aback—which is not 
to be accounted for on our ideas—which is foreign , and you see no 
possible way of explaining it. But it was not so with any of us 
here. My friends were from North Germany, highly cultured, with 
the best German candor and freedom of thought—but with a cer¬ 
tain earnestness of character, which is not so common in Germany, 
just now. People of the world, yet with that real German sim¬ 
plicity and friendliness of.manner. They both knew America well, 
and seemed to take almost as deep an interest in its future, as ] 
myself. Though in an Austrian state, and though loyal subjects, 
they felt and worked for the great poorer classes of men, recogniz- 
16 * 


370 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


ing it as a duty before the enjoyment in learning, tnd before even 
the regular round of religious duties, to help th se great masses 
who are so helpless. I think my friend is almost the first German 
Gelehrter , (scholar,) I have met, who is at all devoting his talents to 
popular education. I was glad to tell him, how well his name was 
known among American scholars, and that his few efforts in science 
had reached so far. 

To-day we have been taking a long walk to the Laurenziberg, a 
high hill, which overlooks the city. It is a glorious spring after¬ 
noon ; the trees are in th° first freshness of foliage ; the green fields 
in the valley glisten pleasantly in the sunlight, and the fragranco 
and softness in the air make one’s heart glad. Every one is out 
enjoying the fine weather, and there are unusual numbers here to¬ 
day ; for it is a religious holiday, and the people are making pil¬ 
grimages to the chapel on the hill. There is the Slovack with his 
broad-brimmed hat and soiled sheep-skin mantle thrown gracefully 
over one shoulder, ready to sell his little wares to whoever will buy. 
There the ruddy Bohemian peasant woman, with kerchief about her 
head, and bright-colored dress, reading piously her prayers. Right by 
her clatters along the Austrian soldier, with sabre, white coat and 
dainty little cap. And once I observed a tall Hungarian hussar, in 
his short blue cloak, sauntering moodily by, thinking perhaps of his 
far away Magyar fatherland and its crushed people. 

As we climb the hill, we pass groups kneeling before the little 
shrines on the road-side, and even occasionally kissing devoutly the 
glass before the images. 

We speak, as we pass in our walk by old historic scenes, of the 
new land over the waters. And amid these relics of an old feudal 
government, I am describing that which is ever new to the Germans, 



PRAGUE. 


371 


and of which I never wearv of speaking to tnem—the success of 
this grand modern experiment in Self-government. 

We climbed for a long time, following the throng of pilgrims 
toward the chapel on the hill, until at length on the summit, the 
vide, grand view of the valley of the Moldau opened before us. 
These panoramic views are never the finest to me, yet this gave a 
ery distinct idea of Prague. The rich golden sunlight was pouring 
over the scene, but did not obscure at all the forest of towers and 
spires and domes and Moorish-like turrets, which characterize the 
city. In the midst of the valley wound the Moldau, dividing the 
town into two parts. On the banks toward the hill where we were 
standing (the Klein-seite ), the houses rise one above the other on 
the hill side, till the summit is crowned by the immense structure of 
the Hradschin , the old palace of the Bohemian kings. The whole 
of that part has just the appearance of one of the old feudal towns, 
with the castle on the summit, from which the baron can rush down 
in his forays upon the peaceful citizens. Indeed such has been 
almost its character ; and that solid bridge which connects this side 
with the “ old town,” has been the scene of many a fierce fight in 
olden time. 

Below this, forming a very pretty object in the view from where 
we stand, is the new chain bridge over the river. 

On the other end of the “ Old Bridge,” rise the massive buildings 
of the university, where, once, more than 30,000 students were 
gathered. Even yet it is one of the most numerously attended uni¬ 
versities in Europe. Beyond this, to a great distance on that side of 
the river, stretches out the “ Old City,” varied with innumerable 
towel’s and fantastic spires, which, mostly built in the Byzantine 
style, give a peculiarly oriental air to the whole place. On the outer 
limits can be seen those iwfv>nse hospitals for the sick and the in- 



372 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


sane, for which Prague is now celebrated. The population of the 
city is only 120,000, yet the buildings are so numerous and grand, 
that it makes a very imposing appearance. It is stated that even 
with this comparatively small number of inhabitants, the city is some 
twelve miles in circumference. 

We stayed long, enjoying the different views, and only as evening 
drew on, turned away for our walk home. I went back a moment, 
to take a last good-bye of the old city, which seemed even more 
rich and fantastic in the evening light,—then followed my friends 
down the hill, quite sure that its like I should never see again. 

As we went down, we stopped to look at some of the little cha¬ 
pels on the roadside—they were nearly all filled with pictures—some 
of no inconsiderable power—representing the sufferings of Christ. 
The people kneeling before them, seemed earnest and engaged. We 
stopped in one place to rest on some stones, near a dark entrance, 
where persons were going in and coming out continually. We 
hardly dared go in ourselves, until at length, the lady of our party 
ascertained that strangers were allowed to enter, and that a frag¬ 
ment of the holy Sepulchre of Christ was exhibited there! Ac¬ 
cordingly we all crept through the passage into one apartment, and 
out of that into a small gloomy cave, lighted with one lamp, and 
hung with black. On one side of it was lying a full-length, wooden 
figure of the naked dead Christ, with his bleeding wounds, and 
above, the cross on a fragment of stone, which I suppose must have 
been the relic in question. In front was a plate for the offerings. 
The whole was very well arranged and had an exceedingly oppres¬ 
sive effect on one, and I must confess we were glad to deposit our 
kreutzers, and get out again. One may judge, how well contrived 
it was for affecting the common people. 

In all these ceremonials, we agreed it was possible for a truly 



VIEWS. 


373 


Christian spirit to \x engaged. Whether i i it w is the fact with 
theso people, or not, was quite another questio . 

We returned in the evening to my friend’s house, or r.vfi.or suite 
of rooms, which by the way are much handsomer than would bo 
those of a gentleman of his station in Berlin; and then ctoi* a r o 5 . 
supper, continued a pleasant conversation till a late hour. 


April 

To-day my friends and myself have climbed the Cathedral tower, 
which, with the hill, gives an elevation of some 500 feet over the 
surface of the Moldau. On the summit, we found a droll, sociable 
fellow, the warden, who had lived up there for many years, and who 
told, us of his “ high-born son ”—born 250 feet above the ground, 
and 500 and odd above the river! His description of the old 
buildings we could see, was very well given indeed. 

To one of them, there was a melancholy interest for us, in that 
it was the place where the revolutionists of ’48—mostly young stu¬ 
dents—are confined. It had been a nunnery, but is now a State 
prison. They are allowed, be said, to walk mound in the court, we 
see there—“ most of them, poor fellows, are sentenced for many 
years.” 

Another building which equally spoke of late events, was a now 
strong fort, just out of the city, built on a hill side, where the on!' 
possible range of the cannon was over the city. The Government 
are evidently securing themselves against any repetition of the seex:. 
o4’48. 

In the afternoon, in company with a Bohemian gentleman, I 
visited a great variety of interesting objects. Perhaps nothing of 
all these was more striking, than the old, tangled, gloomy buryir.g- 
ground of the Jews—an immense field, right in the heaxt of the 



374 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


city, filled to every square foot of ground with plain slabs of stone, 
and overgrown with very ancient twisted trees and vines. It forme 
throughout, one of the wildest, strangest scenes imaginable. 

We c:>.cd cur Jew guide about the little pebbles on tome of th. 
tombs. These were laid, he said, by those who came to the torn be 
to pray, and it was hi3 private opinion that the spirits came back 
into the graves when a good man prayed. 

It is a curious fact that the Jews hero are almost entirely on the 
German side, against the Slavonians. They are quite numerous, 
numbering some 8,000, out of a population cf 120,000. 

.My companion was a genuine Slavonian, and seemed to hope 
much from the recent measures of the Austrian Government with 
regard to his countrymen. The equal position now of the two lan¬ 
guages in Bohemia, and the complete abolishment of serfdom 
through the whole Empire, would do much, he thought, for them. 

The plan adopted in Bohemia in this freeing the peasants, is that 
the State should pay one-third of the loss, the peasant himself ano¬ 
ther third, and the master take upon himself the remaining third. 
Such a measure causes an immense loss to the landholders, and oc¬ 
casions a very complicated mass of business for the Austrian Govern¬ 
ment to settle, as not unfrequently the rents for years from the 
peasants’ labor have been mortgaged. It was the opinion of this 
gentleman, though a Catholic, and, so far as I could judge, a Con- 
Dcn ative, that the attachment of the whole Slavonic race was very 
weak, indeed, towards the House of Hapsburg. 


MONASTERIES. 

later ii, the day we visited some of the old monastic estab 
lishments where my companion had been educated, which are still 



CHARITIES. 


375 


cloisters and hospitals. It was strange to be wandering around through 
the long corridors, and under the rows of old pictures, and to be meet¬ 
ing real, living monks. I must say, however, there was nothing in 
the arrangements which smacked of the comfort-loving tendencies 
of which the brethren have been accused. Everything was plain 
and simple,—even the “ Refectory,” though a grand, arched hall, 
had a table just set, which would have hardly contented a common 
laboring man with us. 

The chapel was the only exception to this plainness. Here the 
treasures of ages seem to have been expended in gilding and carving, 
and monuments, and every variety of rich painting. 

One establishment which I visited,—that of the “ Merciful Bre¬ 
thren ”—had an admirable hospital arranged within, with all the 
most modern practical conveniences, and some hundred or more 
patients. These are admitted and taken care of by the “ Brethren” 
without charge ; and what I was especially glad to hear, no prefer¬ 
ence w r as given to any particular religious faith. The Heretic or 
the Infidel, is equally admitted with the Catholic. The means for 
this are gained by the personal solicitations of the Brethren, from 
house to house. Verily there is many a good side to the old Ro¬ 
mish Faith. 



CHAPTER XXXVII. 


A BOHEMIAN LADY. 

Prague, April, 1851. 

Among my acquaintances here, is a very intelligent Catholic 
family—Bohemians—who have treated me with much kindness. 
They have taken me out in their carriage, among the antiquities of 
this famous city ; and have sent their own family tutor with me, to 
show me over the various places of historic interest. I came in to¬ 
day, after a ride, and took “ afternoon coffee ” with them. The 
house has a most dingy, unpromising exterior, and the outside door 
at the head of the great stair-way, opens into a kitchen, through 
which we pass to the parlor. Yet the parlor is richly furnished 
beyond almost any I have seen in North Germany—massive oak 
chairs, deep sofas, carpets, heavy curtains, and rich Bohemian glass 
in abundance. The lady is evidently a woman of the world—has 
been in England and France—speaks French and German, as if they 
were native languages to her; and is beside a person of real 
thought and intelligence. 'Her husband is a merchant, much inte¬ 
rested in the new rail-road operations in Austria. He wants ex¬ 
tremely a rail-road chart of America, and I have promised to get 
him one, if possible. 


A BLUNDER. 


377 


While waiting for our coffee, I asked for a glass of water, and the 
Bohemian servant brought in a pewter vessel, looking very much 
hke what we should use in our quarter of the world for a watering- 
yot. I thought it was odd; especially as the hostess seemed so 
nuch like a lady of the world ; still in such a queer house and queer 
city I was ready for anything, and did not feel at all sure but that 
this might be the regular drinking cup of the inhabitants ; so I took 
it, and was bringing it to my lips very gradually, when the lady 
caught a glimpse of me. “ Mein Gott! You are not drinking out of 
that! ” and the servant was ordered sharply, this time in Bohemian 
which she understood, to bring a glass; and then such a laugh, as 
we all had—especially the children and myself! The coffee was at 
length brought in, and a small cup of it with a glass of ice-water, 
and a sweet cake was passed to each one. In our conversation, I 
made an allusion to the grand religious ceremonies, then going on 
in Prague, and told her, I had seen that morning in the Cathedral near 
the Castle, for the first time in my life, the Confession. It had left a 
deep impression on me—the kneeling, humble penitents, pouring out 
so the history of the heart into the ear of man. It seemed a tre¬ 
mendous instrument of power. I asked her, what she had observed 
of its practical influence ? 

“ Oh! Confession,” said she, “ like a great many of our ordi 
nances, and of the ordinances of other churches, was good in its 
origin, but has now been much abused. So far as I have observed, 
among my servants and the common people, the influence is very 
good. It is very desirable for such persons, you know, and for most 
persons, when they are confessing their sins, to have a distinct idea 
of them. Merely saying, ‘lama sinner,’ is not enough ; the man 
must see clearly where he sins, and then he can more truly repent; 
we think confession to the priest meets this difficulty.” 



378 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY 


“ Have you ever known direct effects of it ? ” said I. 

“ Oh, yes, often,” she answered. “ I have had again and again 
things restored to me by the priest, which had been stolen either 
by my servants, or others. And many and many a family strife 
here has been healed by our confessors. Of course, everything told 
them in the confessional, is sacred; still they can use it often for 
good. I must allow that very often it is abused. Very many of 
the common people put it off till such a time as this, and theh there 
is such a crowd, that the priest has no time to give good advice j 
and the penitents themselves hurry it over in such an indecorous 
manner! 

“And there are such absurd confessions! I wonder how the 
good fathers can bear it! There is Madame L— 4 —, they say, is 
always mourning with tears, in the box, that she has made bad but¬ 
ter, and keeps the dinner waiting—” 

“ Peccatum mortals, in my opinion,” murmured her husband. 

“Then the Frau Z-, who laments so often that her house is 

not washed every fortnight! Still on the whole, I find the influence 
good.” 

“ But do you feel no reluctance at unfolding all your faults and 
foibles in this way to another ? ” I asked. 

“ Gewiss nicht! certainly not! How can I; and how can any 
Christian woman who really wants her faults corrected, and confesses 
for that purpose ? ” 

“ Ich bitte —pardon ! ” said a young lady, a friend, who had just 
come in, “ I cannot agree with Madame-in that! I find con¬ 

fession a great bore! I shall never tell my secrets to any one ! ” 

I said something then about the dangerous influence on the mind 
of the priest from hearing, for a few year’s, such a history of the 
human heart. 






A DISCUSSION. 


379 


“ I do not see that,” she said, “ on a pure-minded man. I allow 
that very great care should be used in appointing a confessor; and 
for my part, I always prefer a private confessor, who understands 
my own character and peculiar difficulties.” 

I did not ask her, whether she thought this confession could really 
obtain absolution from the priest, for the whole manner in which 
she defended it, evidently supposed the contrary. 

“ I have been on your interesting old bridge to-day,” said I, “ and 
I see the people taking off their hats to the statue of Nepomuck. 
Do you all do that ? ” 

“ Ach ! no. Nepomuck was a very good preacher and priest in 
his day, and died for the truth, and is very much reverenced here ; 
still no educated Catholic would take off his hat to his statue—we only 
bow to the image of Christ, which is at this end of the bridge.” 

In my visit to the Cathedral, I had bought at the door a little 
copy of a prayer to Nepomuck, and now showed it to her. She 
looked it over. 

“ This praying to saints, you know, is not commanded by the 
church,” she said. “ Of course, there is but one real “ Intercessor.” 
Yet I find it very natural. Sometimes I believe it fully, and then 
again I cannot—I do not know. The whole subject of the next 
world is very mysterious. Who can tell, but that those we love, 
and the good of all ages, still have an influence on us here ? I love 
to believe it,” she said, looking up for a moment, her eye kindling 
with feeling. “ How glad should I be to think some were still by me!” 
She stopped, and her husband took the opportunity to make his 
escape. 

“ There are a great many ordinances and ceremonials of the 
Church,” she continued, “ which I do not feel at all necessary for 
myself. I have no need of public worship. I am conscious of wor- 



380 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


shipping the Infinite better among His works. These fast days are 
useless to me, and generally disturb my health, and so with confes¬ 
sion often ; but I observe these, because wise and good men of the 
past have recommended them, and because I shall influence ignorant 
people—my servants for instance. They always connect real heart 
religion with such forms, and if they neglect the one, they will be 
very apt to become weakened in the other.” 

“lam glad you think so about fast-days!” said her friend, “they 
give me such head-aches !” 

“ In my opinion,” she continued again, “ the greatest defect of the 
Catholic Church, as compared with your Protestant, is the celibacy 
of the clergymen. 

“ This ordinance, like the others, I think was very good in the be¬ 
ginning. In the earlier ages and the times of persecution, marriage 
interfered with the duty of the priest; but now, in my view, this 
forced celibacy is the great cause of the ignorance of our native 
priests. No man of any cultivation and refined feelings, will place 
himself where he alone of society is cut off from the most tender 
enjoyments and the best discipline. Besides it makes our priests 
form such dishonorable connections, and which from this very rule, 
become often sinful to them. 

“ Nothing pleases me more in Protestant countries, than to see the 
confidence with which clergymen are received into the families. 

“No respectable family in Prague will admit a priest to regular in 
timacy. Besides, I do not see how a priest cau ever advise, or con¬ 
sole, or sympathize with a family, who has never had himself the 
cares and responsibility of a family.” 

“ Are the foreign priests as illiterate as the native ?” I asked. 

“ No, not at all,” she replied. “ The Jesuits are men of very high 
cultivation.” 



CATHOLIC WORSHIP. 


381 


“ Ach, yes—what an excellent teacher was my dear Father C—; 
out so skilful! I should have been one of the sisterhood certainly, 
if he had staid!” said her friend. 

“ It is not probable,” said the other, “ that the Jesuits will ever 
return. They have left so bad a reputation here.” 

We conversed in this way some time, and I found her in all her 
thoughts with the same beautiful ideality and religious feeling. At 
the close I told her how glad I was, to get the views of an educated 
Catholic on these matters 

“.I must have quite wearied you,” she answered. “I have talked 
very frankly about my faith, and I will tell you frankly, what I find 
so objectionable in your Protestant mode of worship. It is too bare 
and cold for me. There is no appeal in it to the feelings and the 
imagination. Human nature is made up of many parts, and I be¬ 
lieve imagination has its claim, as well as the reason. Your forms 
may be different in America, but those I have seen in the Reformed 
Church here, never affect me in the least. And in England, at 
least in some churches—people seemed to me to come together to 
hear an essay, and not to worship the dear God ! Perhaps I am 
saying too much. You will understand me. I must follow the in¬ 
stincts of my nature, and they are never satisfied with your forms!” 

It was not the time to argue the matter; so I only said, that we 
did not exclude feeling from our services, but “ preferred to excite it 
by other means, through the reason, by oratory and persuasion. 
And we too employed poetry and music.” 

I was deeply interested in the conversation, and have given this 
lady’s expressions, as much as possible, word for word. 

As I left, I thought of the beautiful words of Lavater, which have 
often come over me since, in Roman Catholic countries. 



382 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


Der kennt noch nicht dich, Jesus Christus ! 
Wer deinen Schatten nur entehrt, 

Mir sei, was dich nur, Jesus Christus! 

Zu ehren meint , verehrenswerth. 

Wenn’s Tauschung wur, nur Fabel ware, 

Es fable nur zu deiner Ehre ; 

Es mag mich drficken und betruben 
Um deinetwillen, will ich’s lieben, 

Erinnert’s nur an dich, Iragt's nor 
Von dir, die allerklewste Spur i 



CHAPTER XXXVIII. 


VIENNA. 

A fifteen hours’ ride by rail carried me from Prague to Vienna. 
I know nothing more enlivening than travelling in this fresh spring 
season. It makes one grateful to see the world so beautiful. Then 
this incessant meeting with so many varieties of minds ; and finding 
friendships and affinities with people of such different culture and 
habit! It is very pleasant. Prejudices wear off fast. One meets 
so many, who unwaveringly swear to that as black which their 
neighbors call white; one finds such firm prejudices on the most 
opposite matters, that it seems hardly worth while forming very 
fixed opinions on small matters. I find, too, I come more and 
more to the conviction, that men belong to just the same family, 
have just the same weaknesses, foibles, and virtues, whether 
they speak German or English, wear moustaches, or are close- 
shaven, sport beaver or turban. The thought, too, settles on 
me, half unconsciously but very deeply, from seeing so much 
of oppression and degradation—of the great Want and unhap¬ 
piness of mankind. I find myself, also, strangely and unpleasantly 
losing my sense of the importance of the individual man . Men are 
used in masses, like cartridges for war ; or thej give themselves in 
docks to their rulers for such ignoble purposes; v thev are so fixed 


384 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


in circumstances, and so apparently beyond good influences, that I 
lose confidence in individual Reform, and have more in the great 
Causes, which shall change the whole structure of society. Not, 
perhaps, a logical effect, but a natural. 

Every new station, showed, as we went on, the presence of a very 
different people from the North German ; the swarthy, dark-haired 
boys, the number of beggars, the chapels and crosses by the way, 
and the animated talk and gesture of people were all characteristic 
of a more southern race. 

In the afternoon, at an angle of the road, we came suddenly in 
view of a line of massive blue mountains in the distance. Why did 
my pulse throb quick at the sight ?—They were the hills, where a 
nation had made its last gallant, unflinching struggle for life. The 
first glimpse of a land, which had always seemed too heroic and 
dream-like to me, that I should ever see it 

The Carpathians ! Hungary ! 

The neighborhood of Vienna was indicated, as a large city is 
usually, by the different style of men, whom we saw. People 
more unobservant of strangers, more quick, keen, social, unformal; 
and at the same time, more polite. A very pleasant population 
must the Viennese be, if these are good specimens. 

Our passports at the last station were strictly demanded; but the 
baggage was passed easily. In fact, I am surprised everywhere at 
the politeness of the Austrian police. My quarters were soon taken 
up; and to-day, I have been on the Prater —the Hyde Park of 
Vienna ; and the best place for viewing the outside of the city. 

A grand spectacle it is—almost the most brilliant I have seen 
in Europe. Otho, the King of Greece, is here, and the young 
Emperor gives an entertainment to his guest, by calling out all the 
finest equipages into the Prater drive. The people, too, have 



THE PRATER. 


385 


turned out in multitudes, and every walk and road under these 
grand old oaks and lindens is filled with a most picturesque crowd. 
Sere, on this alley on my right, sweeps down a dashing cavalcade 
*f riders, with those fine-limbed, deep-chested horses, such as one 
leldom sees anywhere, except in England. At their head is a young 
officer, with the white military coat and a diminutive little green 
cap. His features could never be mistaken by any one who had 
seen the portraits of the late emperor, as those of the House of 
Hapsburg. A brother of the Emperor, as you may learn from the 
crowd. In the great alley on the other side, comes a fine open car¬ 
riage with gentlemen in red caps ; Turkish officers, as you hear, who 
are in Vienna studying engineering. Then some riders in the gay 
and graceful short cloaks and plumed shakoes of the Hungarian 
noblemen—the few at the court who are yet allowed, as if in 
mockery, to wear the much-loved costume. After them a modest 
carriage with a kindly-looking man within, and a boy at his side. 
The crowd all salute him with great heartiness. It is the father of 
the Emperor, who declined the crown, it "will be remembered, at the 
abdication of his brother in 1848, in favor of Francis. The boy at 
his side is his youngest son. 

Following, and quite putting to shame his sinfple equipage, ap¬ 
pears the most splendid carriage of the day, with four handsome 
horses, and gilt trappings, and out-riders and 5 footmen. Within is 
a little man with a red cap and singular costume, who keeps almost 
continually nodding to the people. He looks like a court-fool. This is 
the Sovereign of the old Classic Land—the Bavarian King of Greece. 
Not far behind is a simple, neat carriage, looking something like one 
of our large buggies, but with two perfectly trained, powerful horses. 
There are two footmen in white liveries behind, and in front sits a 
young man driving. He is dressed in the usual costume of an Aus 
17 



386 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


trian officer, white coat and small green cap. His face has a thin 
and worn look, and gives you an impression of a person of no great 
strength of character. He chats easily with a friend at his side, and 
occasionally with a gentleman who rides near by. He holds the 
reins well, and seems an accomplished “ whip,”—and that is all you 
would ever notice in him. Yet that man is, perhaps, the most im¬ 
portant personage of these times ; the absolute monarch of the Aus¬ 
trian Empire—the Conqueror of Hungary and of Italy—the Leader 
of Germany and the great and almost only “Defender of the Roman 
Catholic Faith.” On his will, depend perhaps the liberties of Ger¬ 
many, the continuance of Hungary as a nation, and the safety, if 
not the existence, of Protestantism in the empire. Do you notice 
the gentleman who reins up near him, so easily and steadily;—a fiery 
horse; a man of sharp features and keen eye, with full whiskers, 
looking much like one of our New York “ fast men ? ” This is 
Count Orunne , the chief favorite, the initiator of the young Empe¬ 
ror into the mysteries of dissipation, and the great authority on all 
matters of the chase or the table. He has acquired, it is said, a 
boundless influence over the young man’s mind; and through him, 
the whole thoughts and attention of the Emperor are given up to 
horses, and dogs, and soldiers’ uniforms, and all manner of trifles. 
Alas for thee, Hungary, and Italy, and Bohemia, when such are thy 
rulers! 

I know no so grand expression of wealth and rank, as fine horses 
and carriages. They give an idea of jpower, which scarcely anything 
else can express. The Austrian nobility is one of the wealthiest in 
Europe ; and of late years, they have devoted much attention to the 
breeding of horses. The display to-day in horses is much superior 
to any I have seen, except in London. Their best blooded animals 
are crosses of the Arabian with the English hunter. 



VIENNESE SHOWS. 


387 


After this royal party, came an indiscriminate crowd of all imagi¬ 
nable liveries and costumes, whirling rapidly by. There is Metter- 
nich’s carriage—next him a little fisherman’s box with a rough, fast 
trotting nag; then Esterhazy’s, then a nobleman’s, then a hack, then 
a buggy, and pressing close after them, amid the laugh of the crowd, 
a large-wheeled, long-thilled sulky, like one of our New York Third 
Avenue turn outs. Uhlan lancers and Austrian dragoons; Gren- 
zers from the “ Borders,” and Jagers from Bohemia,'Hungarian 
Huzzars, and Viennese police mingle pel-mell in the hurrying 
line. The alleys are equally lively. There the neatly-dressed gen¬ 
tleman from the city, then the tall Tyrolese with green hat and 
feather, the Turk in turban and robes, the Greek with his graceful 
red cap, the Slovack with sheepskin and broad-brimmed hat, and the 
peasant women with bright handkerchiefs about their heads ; all 
merry and happy, for the pleasure-loving Viennese are in their ele¬ 
ment in such a scene as this. I follow the crowd almost at random. 
There is an exhibition of the “ Gigantic English horse;” just beyond 
in a tent, “ The unrivalled panorama of the Mississippi; ” and wedg¬ 
ing my way out of that crowd, I find a large company seated at 
tables under the trees, eating ices or drinking coffee, while an excel¬ 
lent band is playing in the balcony of the restaurante in front. 
After a quiet enjoyment, sipping an ice and watching the party- 
colored crowd, I turn off more to the left towards the “ Sausage 
park,” as it is called. Here they are, the Volk —the pop¬ 
ulace—of Vienna in their element! Dances, jugglery, circuses, 
gymnastic performances, swings, sail-boats full of children sailing in 
imaginary ponds around revolving poles, beer tables, sausage tents, 
fruits, meats, puddings—everything in the open air, and all mingled 
together in endless confusion. Every one full of the enjoyment, 
and very unconscious of everything else. 



388 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


In Berlin, in such an entertainment as this, there would have been 
a moustachoed, helmeted policeman at every beer-table. Here, ex¬ 
cept on a “ drive,” to regulate the procession, I have scarcely seen 
one. As is well known, the Austrian paternal government likes 
nothing better than to see its good-natured subjects altogether, 
absorbed in show and pleasure. Theatres, and wine, and women 
will drive all impertinent political questionings out of their heads. 
Yet probably here, there was not a tent or booth, or small assembly, 
which had not its “ secret police ” officer, or its w government agent.” 
In Austrian diplomacy, tyranny must never be shown, where it can 
be avoided. 

f 


Sunday, April. 

I have just seen another and more serious side of Vienna-life 
which has impressed me very much. I know not why it is, but 
there is something to me in the early beauty of Spring, more thought¬ 
ful and solemnizing, than any other aspect of nature. And I have 
often wondered, whether our spring Revivals in the American 
churches, or the long and serious time of religious penitence and 
worship in the Episcopal and Roman Churches, might not connect 
themselves somewhat with this feeling. However that may be? 
there is an appropriateness which neither Cant on the one side, nor Su¬ 
perstition on the other, can destroy, in the reviving of religious feel¬ 
ing with this beautiful revival of nature. I had felt this through 
my whole journey, and it was with no slight readiness for religious 
impressions that I entered this bright Sabbath morning the old Ca¬ 
thedral of St. Stephen. The building is capable of holding some 
three or four thousand people without any inconvenience, and this 
morning it was full throughout. A scene, most solemn and im- 




CATHOLIC WORSHIP. 


389 


pressive. I had never appreciated before the power of the Catholic 
worship. Of course in our country one sees nothing of it, and in 
France—at least in Paris—the people are so indifferent, and the 
whole service is so dramatic, that it produces no great effect. On. 
the Rhine, too, there are such crowds of spectators in the churches 
that a general air of earnestness is wanting. Here, however, de¬ 
spite the immense crowd, there was the stillness and solemnity of 
our own most affecting religious services. Scarcely any one was 
looking around to watch any one else ; very many were kneeling on 
the stone pavement in silent prayer, others reading from the prayer- 
book, or bowing before the altar to partake of the communion 
wafer. Everything added to the impressiveness. The massive and 
antique architecture, the soft-glowing light, the shadowy arches, the 
ornament, rich, yet in harmony with the old and time-worn build¬ 
ing, and everywhere tending less to dazzle than to impress. 

If there is anything in proportion, in grandeur, in harmony of 
outline, in beauty of form, and of coloring, of itself adapted to call out 
or to aid religious feelings, then was the old Cathedral of St. Stephen 
wonderfully framed for religious worship. The pictures too! One 
evidently gets no appropriate idea of religious paintings as they are 
placed in galleries. They were never made to be set in rows in 
bright, bare rooms, with sharp-eyed connoisseurs clustered around 
them, any more than the beautiful thoughts and passages of Shaks- 
peare to be gathered in one book. They must be taken with theii 
natural accompaniments. Here, in a shadowy niche, with just light 
enough to see the upturned look of pain, and while the rites of 
worship are still going on around, a “ Head of Christ ” is peculiarly 
affecting; but when one hundred and fifty of them are in one hall, 
with all kinds of Satyrs and doubtful Nymphs distributed among 
them, the effect is gone. These stiff old pictures of martyrs and saints 



390 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


too, which look so out of place in a modern gallery, seem entirely 
appropriate and natural in these venerable churches. I could not 
but feel the effect of them in this Cathedral. There were pictures 
of Christ in his sufferings, rough, but powerfully drawn, which in 
the solemn stillness I could most vividly realize, and could hardly 
gaze at without teal’s. The martyrs, portrayed in their torments or 
their triumphs, seemed for the first time like the ideal of the artist; 
noble and pure men, who had died for the truth. 

To these sources of impression was added the full and rich swell 
of music, which softened by the distance of the choir, reached one’s 
feelings with an indescribable, touching effect. Surely one of the 
objects of Church music is to soften the feelings and prepare the 
mind for religious thoughts; and in this respect, one must allow 
that no form of worship is superior to the Roman Catholic. The 
full force of it, I felt that morning. And, as I knelt in prayer with 
the crowd, I could not but believe that in all the superstition around 
me, there were many who worshipped the Invisible Being as purely 
and spiritually as I. I felt glad to think that all which this mum¬ 
mery originally pictured, was equally reverenced by me. This mild 
and suffering face which meets one on every column, this bowed and 
stricken form, are representations of Him whom Protestant and 
Catholic can equally adore. This cross carved on every beam and 
in every niche, which the crowd mechanically imitate with their 
gestures, is the emblem to us, too, of the Greatest of all events. 
These men, pictured in all forms of pain and torment, are those 
whom we equally with them, can reverence as the noble martyrs for 
Truth. 

I was glad that the idea at the ground of this worship was no 
false one, and that in its origin, and sometimes now, in its practice, 
there was something true and good. 



THE PRIESTS. 


391 


I went out conscious that it had not been the worse for me, being 
in the Catholic Cathedral, and half ashamed, as I met a proces¬ 
sion with a crucifix, that I did not take off my hat too, with the 
crowd. 

These were the first impressions from the Catholic worship; but 
I am bound to say, what hardly need be said, That there is an en¬ 
tirely different side to the picture. Nothing is more calculated to 
destroy any good impressions with regard to the Romanists of Aus¬ 
tria, than a sight of the priests themselves. I am in the habit of 
judging much from the form of the face and shape of the head, of 
a man’s character, and I must say, more unpromising physiogno¬ 
mies and “organs ” I have seldom seen, than on these men. There 
was a sneaking, under-handed expression to them which could not 
belong to men whose manhood had been properly developed. Their 
heads were, some of them, base, and animal, and sensual; or so 
deficient in the intellectual and so developed in certain moral pro¬ 
pensities, as to indicate most distorted natures ; or, as was the £ase 
with most, with a full intellectual shape, but with an expression of 
astuteness, cunning, suppleness, very disagreeable to look upon. I 
did not see one genuine, manly, intelligent face. Then, to observe 
the slavish adoration of the crowd to them, to watch their own 
mummeries, to become more and more convinced of the ignorance 
and stupidity of the masses, whose education mostly depends on 
them,—all this, step by step, has given me such an impression of 
the curse which they are to the whole nation, that I have felt ready 
to vow myself forever more, to the most Puritanic simplicity, rather 
than to bring upon mankind again this accursed hierarchv. 



CHAPTER XXXIX. 


LIFE IN VIENNA. 

I find the mode of life and manners among various classes here, 
quite different from that in North Germany. Nobody seems to 
live at home much. A friend invites you to meet him at a cafe or 
restaurante , instead of his house. You find your acquaintances in 
gardens, and promenades, and concerts, and wine-saloons, and sel¬ 
dom anywhere else. People come before you as more lively, gay, 
passionate, than in the North, but with less intellectuality. The 
subjects for conversation are more from music and dress, and inci¬ 
dents in every-day life. Books are not much read or spoken of; 
and important or serious matters seem generally avoided. Yet are 
the Viennese a very social, kind-hearted, cheerful people, with much 
real force and deep feeling I am convinced, if they were in circum¬ 
stances to awaken it. 

The ladies dress much more richly, than in North Germany, 
though in the morning you will often see a lady of rank riding round 
to the shops in an old merino and a common velvet bonnet, which 
would almost shame one of our belles. With the fashionable classes, 
the day begins at noon. After a light breakfast, comes the drive in 
the Prater, and amusement till the dinner hour, from 4 to 6. The 
time for receiving calls is from dinner till 7 \ o’clock, the hour for 


A REVOLUTIONIST. 


393 


opera. After this, at 9J and 10 o’clock, the parties and balls begin, 
and last often till 8 or 9 in the morning. Though rules for inter¬ 
course are very strict, ah accounts represent the aristocracy of Vienna, 
as the most dissolute in Europe. Liaisons seem strangely public; 
and married ladies drive out with their lovers. Prince Schwarzen- 
berg is living openly now with the wife an officer, who is said to be 
quite proud of the honor / 


Apbil, 1861 . 

I went last evening to call on a mechanic, to whom a friend in 
Hamburg had given me a letter. He is living in one of the suburbs, 
in the third floor of a large house. He received me most heartily 
as an American. A dark-browed, dark-haired man, who looks just 
the one for a leader in a desperate enterprise. I met him cordially, 
but let him lead the conversation. He did not wait long. 

“ I wish I was in America ! I would go there, but there may 
great events happen here, in a few years, and I want to be on hand. 
Ach ! you are happy there ! Here they have conquered. Nothing 
but tyranny and priestcraft for us! ” 

“ You saw the Revolution, I suppose ! ” 

“ Ach, yes! I see you are to be trusted, from this letter, and I 
will tell you. I fought through every street with these accursed sol¬ 
diers ! We did not yield an inch without blood. Come to the 
window! You see that long line of blotches along those handsome 
house-fronts there ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Those are from grape-shot. We lined those fine houses with 
picked shooters, and the soldiers could not get on a step—and 
bo the battery kept up a tremendous fire right through that broad 
17 * 




394 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


street. They could not dislodge us, until they got some men around 
in the gardens, in the rear of those houses. Mein Gott! what a 
time was that! I had a company in that—you see it—that tall 
stuccoed building. There was no escape in the rear—and, in front, 
the grape swept like a tempest. So I went up to the attic, and a 
part of us kept up a continued fire, while the rest broke through the 
wall into the next house—and so we went on from house to house> 
sometimes climbing over the roof. I went last—and lost but one, 
poor fellow, who was picked off, just as we were scrambling over a 
roof.” 

“ Have you any hopes of trying it again,” said I. 

“ Certainly. This war shall never end, till tyrants or people are 
gone. I know how the working-men feel. Give them another 
chance, and they will fight till the last man. We cannot bear this 
long ! Taxes, spying—every damned annoyance of tyranny. We 
get little work—we have no kind of freedom—and then we are pay¬ 
ing all the while for these immense armies. You have no idea of 
the brutal oppression here ; Every day women are publicly 
scourged—you must have seen the Notizen on the walls—and if I 
should go out with a white hat or a long beard, I would be in the 
guard-house in an hour!” 

So he went on, in tones earnest and passionate, telling of the 
wrongs and sufferings of the laboring classes—the dark eye kindling 
at the thought of fighting the good fight over again with the hire¬ 
ling soldiery. A determined, dangerous man for the Austrian au¬ 
thorities, when the next struggle comes. 


To-day, I have delivered some letters to a genuine Vienna gentle* 
man, living in the centre of the old city, where, strangely, are the 




A MERCHANT. 


395 


most, aristocratic houses. Very polite, profuse in his offers of service; 
evidently could make nothing of me. A traveller, not interested in 
theatres—not going to the Casino-ball—lives in lodgings and en 
route for Hungary ! An anomaly to the Viennese. He accompa¬ 
nies me to the door and bows me out with the sweetest “ Unter 
ihunigster Diener /” (Most humble servant!)—and I receive a note 
of invitation in the evening, directed to Herr von B-. 


I find a great deal of genuine activity in the government, in mat¬ 
ters of education. The Ministry have kindly furnished me with 
documents, and every convenience for studying the system. 
Count Thun, himself, has been truly friendly. A condensed sketch 
of these improvements has already been given to the public.^ The 
main points are the introduction of the voluntary system in the 
Universities ; and the connecting the various popular schools by 
gradations with one another. I am convinced that there is a spirit 
of real reform abroad ; and that the Professors and the Ministry of 
Instruction are laboring to raise the standard of education. The 
great drawback, which either originates with Count Thun’s rigid Ro¬ 
manist views, or from the obstinacy of the priests, is that many of 
the people’s schools must still be left in the hands of the clergy. 
The influence of the Catholic priesthood is one of the great causes 
which check all progress in Austria. 

I find the Protestants have a very precarious foothold here. They 

* “ Hungary in 1851 , 1 ” p. 3. A full description of the improvements in the 
Austrian School System, put forth by the Austrian Government, has been 
deposited by the author in the Yale College Library, New Haven, Ct., for 
public examination. 





396 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


are barely permitted to exist, and are in constant fear of having 
their meetings broken up, as those of the Freien Gemeinden or 
*' German Catholics” have been. I attended the Protestant service 
last Sunday, in a room like one of our large “ conference rooms.” 
A very simple, fervent exercise, and much more satisfactory than 
those which I have listened to, generally, in North-Germany. 


April. 

My friend-, a scientific gentleman and known as a man 

of liberal sentiments, asked me to dine with him to-day, and meet a 

small number of his friends. The hour was to be four o’clock. I 

* 

rung at the time—the door was opened by a smart-looking man¬ 
servant in livery, who conducted me to the drawing-room, where 
Mr.-— met me with the usual oft-repeated “ most humble ser¬ 

vant,” and warm shakes of the hand—and then led me to die gna- 
dige Frau ” (“ the gracious lady”), as they call the mistress of the 
house. There were several rooms opening into one another, very 
handsomely furnished—much more richly than the houses in North 
Germany. The floor was oak in mosaic and waxed. No books on 
the tables, but many Chinese articles, and vases and mirrors. The 
walls delicately painted in frescoe and arabesque—a so much more 
beautiful style than our papering. This room was filled with little otto¬ 
mans and sofas, like our own parlors. The ladies were in full dress, 
and looking very pretty, though in general the cast of face was a little 
different from the common German type—more harsh and passion¬ 
ate—half-brunette. The manners of all were very cordial and easy. 

“ Himmlisch ! Heavenly ! heavenly ! ” I heard soon from a 
group in one corner, and on going there, found them looking at 
some beautiful little specimens of Bohemian glass-ware. 





COST OF LIVING. 


397 


“Have you anything half so pretty in America, Herr B. ? ” said 
one to me ; “ look at this Ampel! ” 

It was a beautiful little hanging glass vase for dower-vines, the 
prettiest ornament in the German houses, swinging amid the curtains 
of the window, or on the balcony. I expressed my admiration for 
it, and the conversation then turned on the ornaments in American 
and German houses. “ Ach ! you will not see,” said one, “ such 
pretty furniture in our houses now as once—it costs so much to 
live. The funds are so low, you know, and all that.” 

One of them asked me soon about the expenses of living in 
America, especially in the large cities, and whether ladies went to the 
theatre in their own carriage, &c. I told them as nearly as I could, 
and then asked about the style and cost in different ranks in Vienna. 
They talked the matter over, making different statements, and 
finally one said: “ It is very hard, Herr B., to say exactly. There 
are out great nobles, who are as rich as princes—but you 
mean the middle classes, eh ? Well first, for the Professors and 
such people. Prof. H.,—you know him—gets about 3000 
Gulden ($1500) a-year; some only 2000. The merchants and 
professional men live on—some of them—2000, ($1000,) up to 
20,000 ($10,000.) I should think a good average income for the 
merchants, would be 4000 Gulden—though that would hardly keep 
a carriage. People are rather extravagant here in Wien. I have 
been in Berlin and Dresden, and I know it costs twice as much here. 
One must go to the opera, you know, and for my part, I fall sick, if 
I do not have a drive in the Prater. In Berlin, I could stay in the 
house more, over books, though it was very langweilig, (stupid,) was 
it not, liebe Tante ? ” This was addressed, very affectionately, to a 
spirituelle , dignified elderly lady, who had just joined us. 

“ No, liebes Kind, dear child, I did not find it so! ” 



393 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


“ Why, aunt! you do not mean to say you like cdld North Ger¬ 
many best ?—better than la belle Vienne ? ” 

“ I do. I always have, in many respects. We are not so much 
cultivated here. Our society is not so thoughtful. It is true, it is 
very pleasant here in the cheerful, sunny south—but I do not find 
it so satisfying—and to you here I feel free to confess, it pains me, 
pains me every day, to see the condition of the people ! ” 

“ Ach, Tante—nichts politisch ! no politics !” said the young lady. 
“ I was not thinking of that, but are we not much the warmest 
hearted here, and most poetic ? They are so cold and prosy in the 
North.” 

“I do not know that,” replied the other. “You are more expres¬ 
sive here, but their feelings stand trial much better—are more last¬ 
ing. Still I would never forget that many of our most beautiful 
souls in Germany—poets and writers, are from the South.” 

After farther talk of this kind, I took the liberty of asking the 
lady, who had defended the North, whether she was not originally 
from Hanover ? She answered that she was, and inquired with some 
surprise, how I knew it. I told her it was from the purity of her 
accent, the Hanoverian tone and pronunciation being generally 
quite distinct and peculiar.” 

“ Ach ! you are noticing our accent. It is shrecJclich ! horrible !” 
said one of the young ladies. “ Have you observed the Viennese 
never says Ich but Ik, and nicht is always nit, and kann is kawnn 
I am forever running into it before I think.” 

“ It is not so much matter,” said another, “ for almost as many 
t-peak French and English now, as our own language. Your Eng¬ 
lish is spoken everywhere.” 

In the other drawing-room, I found several gentlemen gathered, 
whom I was very anxious to know better. One a University pro- 



AN EXPLOIT. 


fessor, a keen, clear-headed man from one of the Northern univer¬ 
sities, who, though a loyal servant of the Emperor, is doing good 
service also for the people—in attempting to improve the means of 
education. Another, a civilian who usually passed under the title of 
Doctor, I was very desirous to see. 

When in Prussia, I had been much with his intimate friends, and 
they had confided to me his most adventurous history. He had 
reached Vienna accidentally the very day the Revolution of ? 48 
broke out, and without a word from any one, disguised in a Tyrolese 
costume, he had gone out with his trusty rifle, and had fought the 
streets step by step, against the soldiers. I knew his friend, who 
was at his side through much of it. He said that the Doctor never 
seemed to fire, without a white coat coming down. His aim was 
as cool, as if shooting ducks. The students finally began to notice 
that the Tyrol hat was always at the head, wherever there was dan¬ 
ger, and they at last sent an officer to him, requesting his name for 
the “ Student Committee,” that they might suitably promote him. 
He declined giving it—preferring to fight by himself. There came 
an emergency at length, in the siege of Vienna by Windisgratz, 
when, if a message could be carried beyond the besieging lines, the 
city might be saved. Kossuth with a brave army, flushed with vic¬ 
tory, lay within thirty or forty miles distance. If the condition of 
Vienna could be intelligently stated to him, it was thought he would 
not hesitate to deliver the city and terminate the war. But the 
difficulty was, to find the man. The Committee of Students met— 
offered rewards, made patriotic appeals—but no one would present 
himself to the almost certain danger, of either being shot by the 

sentinels or hung as a spy. Dr.-, the moment he heard of the 

case, offered himself to some of the leaders, refusing still to give 
his name-—and only demanded one companion, and two of the best 




400 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


horses of Vienna. A comrade was easily found, if he would lead, 
and two blood-horses from the Emperor’s stables were brought out 
The Doctor presented himself, dressed in the height of the sporting 
fashion—red coat, white breeches, handsome top-boots, nice gloves 
and the et cetera, while the other followed as groom. They rode 
leisurely out from the gates of Vienna, and at some distance came 
upon the first sentinel. He demanded the “ word !” and the Doctor 
muttered something and rode quietly on. The soldier supposing 
it was some country gentleman, did not fire. The two now turned 
by cross roads, which they knew and penetrated some distance, be¬ 
fore the challenge startled them again. This time, bowing their 
heads to their horses’ necks, they struck in their spurs and sprang 
on. There was a quick shot—without effect—and then a hot pur¬ 
suit. Their horses, however, soon distanced the hussars. After 
this, they were not molested, the sentinels supposing them a gentle¬ 
man and servant living within the lines. When nearly through, 
they were suddenly surprised by the sight of a knot of officers in 
front of an inn which they must pass. Fearing, that if they rode 
by, the Austrians might suspect something, the gentleman with a 
most characteristic coolness rode up to the door, dismounted, and 
called for wine, and was soon in a very social talk with the Aus¬ 
trian officers, even inviting them to call at his country-seat, near by. 
They parted amicably, and in a few hours the two were far beyond 
the Austrian lines. On reaching the Hungarian camps, they were 
conducted to Kossuth, and stated their mission. He himself, was 
in favor of marching directly on Vienna—how much might have 
been saved, had he done so !—but his officers and companions 
opposed it, as being a step beyond the design of the Hungarian 
movement—as committing them irretrievably to a war with all the 
arbitrary powers. The ambassador plead much, and eloquently— 



THE “RUN” 


401 


Dut to no purpose, and he and his companion returned on their 
hazardous enterprise. The escapes on the way back, were as won¬ 
derful as before. At the last line of sentinels, their muttered reply 
was not enough. The sentinel fired, wounding the groom’s horse, 
and in a moment the patrolling hussars were in rapid pursuit. It was 
a terrible run. I have often heard the Doctor relate it. He himself 
could easily have escaped, but, of course, he would not abandon his 
comrade. They were often within pistol-shot of the hussars, and 
once he had raised his pistol on the foremost, but without firing. 
He is a dead shot, and had resolved to sell his life dearly. There 
was no need. Just at nightfall, they came within range of the gates. 
A joyful shout from the walls—quickly rattling shots among their 
pursuers—and their jaded and bloody horses were just able to bear 
them safely ia. 

Besides this adventure, I had known of the Doctor’s going down 
into Croatia, in the beginning of the war, and fighting on his own 
account on the side of the Hungarians—always at the most dan¬ 
gerous outposts, never accepting a commission or honor—as cool in 
the battle as in the drawing-room, and an unerring shot. 

I had pictured to myself beforehand a real lover of the battle—a 
brawny, blustering, swearing blade, who would be most disagreeable 
anywhere, except at your side in a tough fight. I found, however, 
a very quiet, modest, polite gentleman, attentive to the ladies, with 
no especial marks of courage, except only a certain steady directness 
of eye in looking at you, which I have always observed in men much 
accustomed to shoot, and who have been tried much in scenes of 
danger. I saw him frequently afterwards. He never would speak 
of his adventures, except under great solicitation; and only occasionly 
alluded, in a quiet way, among his intimates to his “ little ride in’48.” 
A true man for these stormy times; and to be heard from again, I hope. 



402 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


Luckily for him, my acquaintance with him was never suspected 
by the Austrian police. It was strange how well in this very com¬ 
pany, my instincts were afterwards confirmed. There was a big 
blustering rpan, who thumped the table and often protested loud 
friendship for me, and cursed the government violently when I met 
him at his house, whom I always suspected to be a sneak ; and there 
were others on whom unconsciously I had a most unwavering re¬ 
liance. Afterwards in my imminent peril, this quiet Doctor and some 
others as unexpressive friends risked their lives for me, while the others 
either utterly disowned me to the police, or acted like children. There 
was a very interesting English gentleman present, who had almost 
forgotten his English, who stood by me, also, in a noble manner 
afterwards—as I should have known he would, and who was obliged 
to leave the capital, after his long residence there, in consequence 
of his interference. 

Our dinner-table was set out very handsomely, with more of 
beautiful glass-ware than I had been accustomed to see—and with 
a greater variety of wine—indicating the neighborhood of wine 
countries. 

“ Have you seen everything in our beautiful Wien ; and do you 
not like it all ? ” said the lady next me. 

“ All except the trottoirs ,” I replied, “ they are execrable ; it is 
veally risking one’s life to go sight-seeing on foot in Vienna ! ” 

“ But you must not leave anything,” said she. “ There is the 
People’s Theatre, close by you in the Leopoldstadt. You get the 
best broad Viennese wit there. Then have you seen the dance- 
halls ? travellers always go there ; and we ladies, too, sometimes for 
curiosity. They dance till four o’clock in the morning. And you 
must taste all the Vienna ices, better even than the Paris ; and our 
puddings, perhaps we can show you some to-day.” 



PICTURES. 


403 


u And you should not forget, Herr B., our works of art,” said the 
elderly lady, of whom I have before spoken. I inquired more par¬ 
ticularly of them. 

“ You know the public galleries of course from your guide-books. 
The collection of Rubens in Prince Lichtenstein’s, one of the best in 
Europe; and the Spanish school at Esterhazy’s. The engravings 
you must not forget—perhaps the finest collection in the world—■ 
they are in the royal Palace. But you must see beside some of our 
private ateliers, to judge of modern Austrian art. There is Professor 
Raid’s studio. I think you told me you knew him.” 

I told her, I had been introduced to him, and had seen a large 
work he was preparing for a gentleman in Boston. “ A rich 
colorist,” I said, “ but he seemed to me somewhat meretricious.” 

“ Ah, you speak of that Venus nude ! Yes; you are right. In 
fact, our school is not as simple as the Northern, though superior in 
my opinion to that finical Diisseldorf.” 

“ But, Herr B.,” said the young lady, “ you should have seen the 
great picture of the year, here last winter. Ach ! Himmel! De la 
Roche’s ‘ Napoleon on the Alps! ’ All Vienna was en fureur 
for it!” 

I had seen it, I said, in the gentleman’s gallery who had owned 
it, in Leipsic. 

I inquired, whether any of Oalam's landscapes could be found in 
Vienna. I had never seen but two, but they seemed to me the 
finest; and, indeed, the only satisfactory landscapes I had ever met, 
except Turner’s. 

"So! Calam! I think there is one here. I will inquire. I 
see you English always speak much of Turner. We do not know 
him at all in Germany. The truth is, we cannot often afford to buy 
paintings from England.” 



404 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


“ But especially,” said the elder lady, or Madame Von Z-, as 

I found she was called, “ you must see Canova’s funeral group in 
the Church of the Augustines 

I told her I had seen it; and that I scarcely ever saw statuary 
which affected me more at the first impression. The white marble 
forms against the dark opening of the tomb which they were enter¬ 
ing, every line so sad and drooping; nothing affected ; no attempt 
to show features which should be concealed; the bowed matron 
with the urn, the tottering old man, the sorrowful maiden, the bit¬ 
terly-weeping child, the crouched lion at the portal. It made an 
impression of sorrow so much on me, that I could not refrain from 
tears, without having really known the design intended. But the 
effect was exceedingly injured, when I turned to my guide-book, and 
found it was an “ allegorical group.” 

“ Yes ; that is true. I felt it at first in the same way. I never 
enjoy allegorical designs.” 

“Ich bitte Sie,Herr B.l—pardon ! ” interrupted our host, “you 
are not doing justice to the wine. There is the Hungarian cham¬ 
pagne by you, or the Adelsberger—an excellent wine, I can recom¬ 
mend it. Here, Karl! fill up a glass of Menesch—the extract, sir! 
I imported it from Hungary myself ! Zu Ihrer Gesundtheit — 
your health! ” I bowed and sipped of the little thimble-glass, filled 
with a dark, sweet, cordial-like wine 

“ Herr L. says you are going into Hungary. Is it so ? ” said one 
of the ladies to me. 

“ Yes.” 

“ Why do you ? What can you find there ? There is no good 
theatre now in Pesth, since the Revolution, and the roads are terri¬ 
ble. Ungarn always seems so far off. I would rather take a trip 



J/INNER TALK. 


405 


to England, for the trouble of it. Then I should not like to see that 
poor people now, die armen ! ” 

“ But do you not like the Hungarians, here ? ” said I. 

“ Oh yes, we all like them. They are great favorites in Vienna— 
that is the men—we think the women a little ungebildet , (unculti¬ 
vated,) you know. But the gentlemen are real cavaliers—very 
manly-looking ! They have not at all your odious English custom 
of shaving the face. They think it girlish. Do you see what an 
influence we have had on Meester N. ? ” and she pointed to the full 
beard and moustache of the English gentleman. 

All other conversation was now absorbed in a discussion, going on 
in the middle of the table, around our host. He was denouncing 
the financial measures of the Government, as utterly ill-judged and 
insufficient. This issuing of paper, he said, was only putting off the 
evil day. There must be thorough measures, or Austria would be 
bankrupt. Retrenchment! economy ! that was the only thing. 

“ But look at this taxation ! ” said the Professor ; “ this will soon 
go far towards meeting the difficulty.” 

li Ich bitie Sie Verzeihung —I beg your pardon ! It will do 
nothing. It embitters the people—that is all. We must retrench 
these expenses in armies and uniforms, and police. There is enough 
spent there to pay half the interest.” 

“ Ach! ” said the other, shrugging his shoulders, “ that is 
quite another question. You know soldiers cannot be given up 
here.” 

“ Leider ! Alas ! no!—but fewer of them ! Then a better man¬ 
agement of the public property. I agree so far with the Lloyd, in 
an entirely different system being needed by our Ministry. And 
this attempting to force commerce—it’s absurd ! 

u There would be no difficulty,” said another gentleman, “ for the 



406 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


Austrian Government, if there was any public confidence in .t. These 
foreign gentlemen here, know, that the debt of England is incom¬ 
parably greater than Austria’s, even in comparison with her resour¬ 
ces. Look at our State property—it is immense. The mines of 
salt and iron and lead—our public forests—the monopolies of our 
Government—the State domains—there is security enough for the 
heaviest funded debt. Give us quiet and peace here a few years, 
and we shall have credit. That is all we want.” 

“ You will find this the subject of subjects in Vienna,” whispered 
one of the ladies to me, “ especially to us who want to go to your 
Great Exhibition so much. A pound is worth now—how much, 
Herr S. ? You know ! ” 

“ About 13-4 ;” and tome, “usually, 9florins and 54 kreutzers.” 

“ I fear I shall never get to the Exhibition,” said she, with a 
sigh ; “ but they are going to the drawing-room again ! ” 

Coffee was brought up—always in Vienna with iced water—and 
I had a long conversation, in English, with the Doctor and the 
Englishman. They were both confident the present state of things 
would not hold long in Austria. Discontent, they said, was work¬ 
ing through every class, except the nobility. Tyranny had now 
reached a very tender part with the Viennese—the pocket. “ They 
would have succeeded in ’48,” said the Doctor, “ but there were no 
competent leaders. They fought well.” 

“ A bad lot, all of them,” said the Englishman; “ though the 
students did show some pluck.” 

“ No men ever fought braver,” said the Doctor; “but it’s time for 
the band in the Volksgarten—let’s be off for a walk. Die gnadige 
Frau will give us a light for our cigars.” 

“ Adieu!” 



ETIQUETTE. 


*r 


u Unterthanigster Diener !!” 
“ Adieu! ” 


April, 1851. 

I am mueh amused at the Viennese strictness in matrimonial mat¬ 
ters. A friend of mine, Mrs. -, an American lady residing 

in Vienna, was lately visited by a young German friend of hers. 

“ Have you heard, Mrs.-,” said the young lady, “ of the 

great indiscretion which your American friend, Mr. S., has been 
guilty of in our family ? ” 

No ; she had not. 

“ Well, I was in our boudoir, yesterday morning, and I heard my 
sister in conversation in the front drawing-room with Mr. S.; at 
length her tones grew so loud that I feared something was the 
matter, and on going to the door, I could see through the rooms, 
that my sister was walking up and down in her riding-dress, in a 
terrible excitement, brandishing her little whip most violently. I 
rushed into the room, and found Mr. S. standing on one side, pale 
and in deep emotion, and my sister with a letter crushed in her 
hand. ‘Mein Gotti That I should be insulted so in my own 
house, and by one who has been treated so kindly ! ’ she was saying. 
I asked what it was, and found that Mr. S. had had the presump¬ 
tion to write a letter to my sister, offering his hand, and had handed 
the letter to her ! It was enclosed to my mother, indeed, but he 
had sent the letter to her ! We had never expected such an insult 
from Mr. S., and certainly we had given him no pretext for it! ” 

Mrs.-could not get the point of the offence, at first, but 

when she did, she burst into a laugh, and told her indignant friend, 
that that was the custom in America ; and, indeed, that a gentleman 







IDS 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


seldom even informed the mother at all, until the matter was settled. 

Mr.-, too, who was present, told her that “ American parents 

felt abundantly satisfied, if they were even invited to the wedding! ” 
The lady was much mollified by this, and would inform her sister, 
who would be glad to know that Mr. S. had not intended to offend 
her. 


A WEDDING. 

A friend gives me the following account of a wedding lately in 

Vienna high life, of the daughter of Count-, a favorite of the 

Emperor. “ It was in the morning at the house of the pope’s Nun¬ 
cio, who performed the ceremony. We found the rooms filled with 
princesses of all high names, Metternichs, Esterhazys, Lichtensteins, 
&c., in full dresses and diamonds, all in bonnets, except the troops 
of bridesmaids. The groom was an elegant young Hungarian no¬ 
bleman, in his national costume. It was of a rich blue silk, close¬ 
breasted, tight-fitting short coat, slashed with gold cords across the 
breast; tight blue silk breeches, joining at the knee the high, snug, 
polished, and spurred boots. From his shoulders, fell back the short 
national cloak of heavy blue watered silk, lined with white. It is 
only the form of the dress that is characteristic, the color is at the 
choice of the wearer; and the bright Mazarine blue with white lin¬ 
ing and gold trimmings, was very becoming to the dark, brilliant, ori¬ 
ental beauty of the young count. Other Hungarians were there, 
with deep-colored velvets, trimmed with fur. The dress of the ladies 
is not peculiar, except of those who are of Hungarian blood; theirs 
is of deep black; but they are not often found at Court, unless to 
beg the life or liberty of some of the thousands still lying in Hun¬ 
garian prisons. 






A WEDDING. 


409 


“ The groom was in the room all the time. Presently came in the 
bride, with her mother and one or two lady-friends. She went up 
to her father, kissed him, then kissed her step-mother, and then the 
father and mother of her husband, and afterwards passed about the 
room, kissing her intimate friends. They always kiss both cheeks ; 
first on one side and then on the other. The bride was very pretty, 
and dressed like all other brides. 

“ After she came, the whole party crowded into the little private 
chapel of the Nuncio. The service was in French, and very much 
like that of the Episcopal Church, except that there were more cer¬ 
emonies. It was finished by administering the communion to the 
bridal pair.” 


18 



CHAPTER XLI. 


AN EXCURSION-AN ARISTOCRATIC PARTY. 

Ar*iL —. 

As I awoke up this morning, the first object which caught mv 
eye was a flowing beard, a placid countenance* turbaned head, and 
long smoking pipe, in the window opposite. 

I could see nothing else, where I lay, and for some time, in my 
half-dreamy state, I puzzled myself with wondering how I had at 
length reached Turkey, the country I had so longed to see, and how 
I intended leaving it, and what strange land was next before me, 
when a rap with “ 1st der Herr schon auf? (Is the gentleman 
up ?) roused me to realities, and I remembered I was in Vienna, 
where Turks are plentiful enough. 

The summons proved to be from a Servant of my friend, the 
“ Doctor,” with an invitation to a country excursion to-day. I ac¬ 
cepted it, and in a short time was breakfasting with him at Daum's 
(a celebrated coffee-house,) the breakfast consisting of two small 
kipfel, or bread-cakes to each, the whitest and best bread in Europe, 
crumbled into a tumbler of rich coffee. 

We were intending to go to the valley of Briel—and accordingly 
walked towards the city gates to the rail-road station without the 


PLAN OF VIENNA. 


411 


walls. Vienna has been very well compared in its plan, to a spi¬ 
der’s web. The den—the centre of all—the object by which the 
stranger everywhere guides himself through the mazes of the city, 
and the last which he sees at a distance in leaving it, is the Cathe¬ 
dral of St. Stephen, with its lofty and graceful spire. From this 
radiate all the streets of the “ old city,” until they are cut off by 
the ancient walls, turned now into agreeable promenades. This, 
though it embraces the most mouldy, interesting, and aristocratic 
part of the city, is only a small portion of Vienna. Beyond it, ra¬ 
diate out again the streets of the “ Suburbs,” mostly fine broad 
avenues, lined with handsome stuccoed houses, and only changing 
near the outskirts into the narrow dirty lanes of ordinary European 
cities. There are innumerable public gardens and parks all around 
and within the city, and the broad promenades of the Bastions en¬ 
circling it, so that the whole has a very attractive appearance. But 
the glory and beauty of Vienna, in which it is equalled by no city 
of Europe, is in its surroundings—its environs. 

Those jagged hills on one side, with their green quiet valleys, and 
monasteries, and castles perched along the summits, the rich plains 
at their base, the broad silvery stream of the Danube on the other, 
and the blue massive summits of the Styrian Alps in the distance, 
with the cheerful gardens, the walks, the towers of the city in the 
centre—such a scene of picturesque beauty is not in my memory. 

My friend and I walked hurriedly, as every one does in Vienna, 
dodging the rapid vehicles, for which the pedestrian must keep the 
most constant look-out, as the streets are very narrow and have no 
sidewalks, until we came to the gate. This is a heavy arch under 
the Bastions, guarded by sentinels, with cannon above raking the 
street, a token of the martial law which still rules the city. As we 
came out on the broad glacis beyond, we stopped a moment with 



412 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY 


the crowd to look at a handsome light carriage, sweeping on rapidly 
towards us. Hats in the air ! yes ; it is—the Emperor No out¬ 
riders, or carriages, or attendants, and he' himself driving four in 
hand , like a Jehu ! Not bad!—and I feel inclined for the first time 
to touch my hat to the young Nero—but do not. 

“ Do you see that large brick building,” said the Doctor, in Eng¬ 
lish, after we had walked some ways, “ with a clean sweep all around 
it—nothing which can command it any where ? That is the new 
Arsenal, built so that we cannot get arms as easily for another fight. 
Ah ! such a beautiful little rifle, as I found that night in the old 
one! They say all the muskets of the Hungarian nation are in 
this. It would be devilish hard to storm ! ” 

I took on myself the buying the tickets—as the Doctor was busy 
with some ladies—and bought first-class tickets for Modling , where 
we were going. The Doctor laughed, and said he always took the 
second or third class. There were a frank, jovial set of gentle¬ 
men in this — some Hungarians, and Austrian country landlords. 
They passed cigars to us, and after a little while, one of them in a 
very good-natured, free and easy way, begged to know what coun¬ 
try I was from ? “ He saw from my dress I was foreign.” I told 

him to guess. He said from my accent, he should judge me to be 
from North Germany—Holstein, perhaps? “No.” “ Well, Den¬ 

mark?” “No.” Sweden, and then Russia, and finally back again 
to Meklenburg and Bavaria, and at last to England. Baffled in all 
this, he gave it up. “ Where the d—1 are you from, then ? ” 

I answered vaguely, and did not gratify his curiosity till at the 
close of the ride, 

“ Ach Himmel! America! Who would have thought of that ?” 
Did any English traveller ever meet anything more completely 
Yankee, in a backwood American village ? 



A WALK. 


413 


Modling is about nine miles from the city, full of beer-houses and 
restaurantes for the Viennese, who crowd the village on Sundays. 
We struck across into the range of hills, and after some hard climb¬ 
ing, were on the summit, with the wide view of the valley of the 
Danube beneath us. We lay a long time on the grass, enjoying 
the beautiful scene; my friend showed me the course of his “ ride” 
in ’48 ; and pointed out the various objects of old historical interest. 
There the green trees and occasional church-spires of Aspern, the 
scene of Napoleon’s great battle; there again the heights of Wag- 
ram ; here, below, the palace of Schonbrunn, with mathematically 
laid gardens, where “Napoleon II” died; and near us, along the 
hills, the picturesque ruins of feudal castles, yet showing the 
ravages of the Turks. We stopped in our ramble at various coun¬ 
try-seats, with whose owners my friend was acquainted. These were 
not generally as tasteful as the other surroundings of Vienna might 
lead one to expect; there was something bare, unsheltered, incom¬ 
modious about them. The people have the usual lively, cheerful, 
urbane appearance of the Viennese. The valley of the Briel is the 
property of Prince Lichtenstein, and contains one of his modern 
castles, with some interesting ruined castles, and some artificial 
ruins. A quiet, sheltered, peaceful green valley, with pretty per¬ 
spectives, and excellent inns for pleasure parties. Our appetites 
were well sharpened, when we reached one of the best of these— 
the Weisse Kreutz, I believe. We found a pleasant little table un¬ 
der a vine-covered arbor in the garden, and ordered a good quantity 
of the famous Vienna dishes. The Doctor laughed when I asked 
the waiter for a place to wash. 

“ I have not heard that since I was in England!” said he. “ Das 
thut man nie hier !” (We never do that here !) 

“ Good !” said he, as the first course came on; “ Brod suppe mit 



414 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


Ey ! (B^ad soup and eggs!) that is right! ” “ Now Kellner! the 
gebackenes Huhn quick, and Fogasch—and your best Mehl-speise 
(pudding)—the gute Frau knows what I like! Tell her not to 
make the black coffee very strong ’ 

The Huhn is chicken fried in lard; Fogasch is a perch, much 
prized here. 

The waiter brought in each dish, hot, as a separate course ; and 
at length, when we had finished them, handed us our coffee, with 
“ A good digestion! meine Herrn! ”—a German salutation, espe¬ 
cially appropriate after some of their meals. 

In one corner of the garden, there were a number of workmen, 
rolling nine-pins, and we crossed over to look at them. The alleys 
were mere hard-beaten earthen tracks. The pins and balls were 
only about half the size of those in ordinary use with us. They 
played for money, and were drinking beer from large mugs, contin¬ 
ually. A more degraded, lifeless, heavy-faced set of laboring men 
I scarcely ever saw, even in the worst agricultural shires of England. 

“ Now do you hope, Doctor, ever to raise up such creatures as 
these, into men for a free government ? ” said I. 

“We shall come to it gradually,” he answered. “ Educate them ! 
that is the first thing. But you must remember, these are not the 
men who want a Revolution. All they care for is their beer and 
time for a Kegelspiel like this, occasionally. The most discontented 
class now in Austria is the middle class—there is where the out¬ 
break will begin. The mechanics and shopkeepers, and higher, the 
studying men—they understand Liberty, and they are galled by 
these restrictions.” 

“The merchants and nobles, then, will stand by the govern¬ 
ment ?” 

“ Yes —es versteht sich—oi course! They can only lose by an 



NINE-PINS. 


415 


overturning—though we may become so completely bankrupt, that 
even the merchants would be glad of any change. But see that fel¬ 
low drink!—he has taken three quart mugs while we have been 
standing here! ” 

I told him it sickened me to see such a set of men as these. It 
was discouraging. “ When I am with the better classes,” said I, “ I 
can see that they are superior in many things, to ours, and where 
they are not, they can improve themselves. But these brutes, will 
they ever be men ? It is such a contrast to our laborers.” 

“ Yes, it must be,” he replied. w These fellows have no hope. 
Their place in life seems to them just as fixed as one of the laws of 
nature. It never enters their heads that they or their children can 
be any better. Ach Gott! is the Old World wearing out ?—But it 
is time to be getting down the hill. Kellner ! bring the bill ! ” 

A pleasant walk down the hill brought us to Modling, and we 
were in Vienna again, at a seasonable hour. 


I was invited in the evening to the house of a gentleman, who 
had been quite polite to me, though he himself belonged to the 
ultra aristocratic party in Austria, and even to the extreme Jesuit 
side. I always expected to meet at his house, the most thorough 
conservatives of Austrian conservative society. 

A servant in livery admitted me, and another conducted me to 
the drawing-room and announced my name. 

It is singular, in the best houses of Vienna, you never find an 
ante-room. Even if a lady is going to a ball, there is no private 
room or glass. The servant merely assists the visitor in the hall. 

There were only a few present here, this evening, sitting around 
easily, in different parts of the room, chatting with one another— 




416 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


the lady on a lounge in one corner, before a small table, making 
tea, with two or three gentlemen talking in a lively way in French 
with her. The language used by the company seemed to be French? 
generally, though I heard English words. 

I fell in at once with a stout elderly gentleman, who spoke Eng¬ 
lish, and who, I believe, was a merchant or banker. We spoke of 
the universal subject, Austrian finances and debt. “Very much 
exaggerated, sir,” said he, “ very much. We have public property 
enough to meet double the amount. There will be no difficulty. 
A loan must be taken up, and heavier taxes laid. This proletariat 
have cost us something, and they should pay the debt.” 

“ But do you not fear to make the people discontented ? ” I 
asked. 

“ No. All the order-loving citizens will stand by the law. They 
see it is a question of life and death for us. We are under the ne¬ 
cessity of sustaining a heavy taxation, in order to preserve the 
credit of our State.” 

I told him most of the impressions abroad about the Austrian 
moneyed difficulties were derived from the correspondent of The 
Times . 

“I know it,” said he. “I know the man well, Mr.-; he 

has been here a long while, and he did us good service in ’48; and 
he was even favorably noticed at court. The Times was on very 
good relations with us then. One of the proprietors came on and 
held a long interview with Prince Schwarzenberg, aud got a very 
good understanding of that Hungarian matter. Since then, this 

Mr.-, has taken offence at something, and gives very incorrect 

advices on our financial condition.” 

“ You do not credit these stories,” I inquired, “ about The 
Times being paid by the Austrian Government 2” 




A PROTECTIONIST. 


417 


“ Oh! earlier information may have sometimes been furnished 
it, nothing more. Our Imperial Government has not conde¬ 
scended yet—God be thanked !—to hire such tools! ” 

He went on to speak with a bitterness, singular in a staid, old 
commercial man, about England, and the attempts of the English 
to interfere in continental matters. 

“ The truth is,” said he, “ the English give us more trouble in Eu¬ 
rope than any other people. If it was not for their own pockets, they 
would have had all the Continent in a blaze long ago. You Ame¬ 
ricans seem to mind your own affairs. But the English! Do you 
know that Lord Palmerston has done more to disturb the order of 
Europe, than any Revolutionist! ” 

I made some inquiry in regard to their future policy on the Tariff 
question. 

“A difficult matter, sir. I have been in England, and I have studied 
their commercial policy; yours, I know, is very different. I must 
say, I like it better. We want here to push up Austrian manufac¬ 
tures. We do not like to be overflooded with English goods and 
English iron, when we can make them ourselves. There are im¬ 
mense resources in the empire, which have never been developed. I 
wish these English could be driven out of every market in the civil¬ 
ized world. Our tendency is to high tariffs now, but it may not 
last.” 

“Always on the money question, Herr Yon T-,” said our 

host, coming up; “excuse ! let me present you, Herr B., to a lady, 
who much likes the Americans! ” 

A very pleasant, intelligent lady I found, and I had a long talk 
with her on America, and our cities and ladies, &c. I soon dis¬ 
covered that she was more liberal in opinion, than I had expected 
to find any one in the room. In speaking of Vienna, I told her 




418 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


how much impressed I had been by the Roman Catholic services 
in the Cathedral—how solemn they were. 

“ So! You were there ! Yes, they were good ; but, I must con¬ 
fess, they tire me. The best part is the lighting up the dark 
churches at the moment of the Resurrection. Did you see that? ” 

I asked her soon whether the priests came much into general 
society. “ Ach ! no. Only the Jesuits. You see there is one, that 
smooth, nice-looking Abbe in the corner. He is talking French 

with Madame-. How bland ! I never like to meet him. They 

say he is a secret agent of Government.” 

“ Our friends here,” said she again, “ are of the ultra-montane 
(Jesuit) party, which many of us Catholics you know dislike almost 
as much as you Protestants.” 

I inquired in the conversation, what the feeling was towards the 
Emperor among the higher classes. 

“ We do not know what he may be when older,” said she. “ But 
I cannot understand, how so young a man could refuse so long any 
act of mercy towards those poor misguided Hungarians. We have 
hopes though. Persons in the court say, he is much controlled by 
others ; and that his great ambition is to be a General. I do not 

know, however. But Madame-is serving tea; let us draw 

nearer the table.” 

A haughty, brilliant-looking lady was speaking with much ani¬ 
mation, as we came into the circle, sometimes in English and some¬ 
times in German—each language so perfectly, that I could not tell 
which was native to her. She was talking of the Hungarian Revo¬ 
lution ; after a little while she turned to me. 

“ We think it strange, sir, that there is so little information in 
foreign countries about this infamous rebellion ! The English lite¬ 
rally know nothing about it. Your countrymen seem much more 





AN ARISTOCRAT. 


419 


enlightened, but you will pardon me, if I say, that they are not 
always unprejudiced.” 

I answered, that it was unfortunate the Austrian party had not 
issued more documents on the subject. All the brochures and his¬ 
tories appeared to take the opposing view. 

“ Yes,” she replied. “ It was an error. We were so confident 
of our cause, that we had not thought it necessary. And Gott sei 
Dank! the Austrian Empire, does not yet depend on success in 
pamphlet warfare ! ” 

“ But,” said a gentleman, “ we have documents; and if the mon¬ 
sieur is interested in the matter, I shall be pleased to furnish them 
to him.” 

I inquired what he had. He mentioned two histories of the war 
by Austrian savants , and some pamphlets. “ And beside,” he 
added, “ what I had forgotten—the articles of your countryman, 
Monsieur Bowen, if you have not read them, in the JVord Ameri- 
canischer Revue ! ” 

I thanked him, and promised to call for them. 

“ Your countrymen are strangely mistaken in Kossuth,” said the 
lady again. “I was in Hungary in the war, with my husband, 
General-, and I know him. He is a low-born radical /” 

The rest joined in with expressions, uttered with a fervor which 
amused me. “ Red-republican ! ” “ vulgar agitator ! ” “ a mere 
demagogue—strange that foreign nations should take such an inte¬ 
rest in him! ” 

“ Nothing would please me so much,” said the lady of the Gen¬ 
eral again, in excited tones, “ as to see Kossuth's head ! ” 

I looked up in surprise at such a~ wish; and inquired more par¬ 
ticularly for his errors or vices, but did not gather them, except 
that he was a kind of a Robespierre, who desired nothing better 




420 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


than anarchy or revolution ; and who used a certain windy popular 
eloquence to effect his objects with the crowd. With regard to 
Mr. Bowen, I was asked, 

“ Is it true that he has been obliged to resign a professorship in 
one of your universities, on account of his views upon the Hunga¬ 
rian question ? ” 

I answered, that I had heard the report through the papers; or, 
at least, that he was rejected as a candidate. 

“ Pray! why is not that tyranny ? ” said the gentleman, “ as 
much as anything complained of here ? ” 

I did not know the facts, I replied. I suppose the univer¬ 
sity authorities did not object to Mr. Bowen’s holding what 
opinions he chose, but they thought those opinions indicated a tone 
of mind, which would unfit him to teach American youth. 

“ But we thought, my dear sir, you boasted for your land that it 
was the very place for free expression of opinion. If it is, why should 
monarchical views on historical subjects injure the young men 
Why would it not do them good to hear the other side ? ” 

I admitted, if the facts were as they stated them, I should not 
consider Mr. Bowen’s rejection, justifiable. 

“ You must confess, Mr. B.,” said our host, “ there is a power in 
your country, quite as tyrannical and troublesome as the European 
police-system. I mean public opinion. People say, you dare 
not move a step against it.” 

I admitted its power; “ but the free and independent could face 
it. and have faced it. Besides, it comes from ourselves.” 

“ Pardon! my dear sir, I was in England at the time of some of 
your slavery riots. I know how men are treated, who oppose it. 
For my part, I would rather be under one tyrant than twenty mil- 



VIEWS OF AMERICA. 


421 


lion ; though Gott bewahr ! (God forbid !) that I should imply, we 
were under a tyrant! ” 

I answered that this tyranny was not as great as they supposed. 
Our most popular journals are the most independent. 

“We see many of your papers here,” said the banker, “ and you 
will pardon us, if we say that their tone seems most faulty—I 
should certainly hope our Austrian press would never wish such 
freedom.” 

“ You must admit, Mr. B.” said our host, “ that there is a person¬ 
ality, and low abuse of a private man’s character in your newspaper 
writing, which is not worthy of your country. It looks like the 
worst kind of subjection—the subjection to a vicious public opinion. 
Excuse our frankness, but so it seems to us!” 

“ Then the rioting and the bloody crimes, we hear of!” said the 
lady who had before spoken. “We admit your country is power¬ 
ful, and is going on to a wonderful influence,—but these things! 
Are they not horrible !” 

I admitted something of the truth of what they said, and as 
calmly as possible, stated at length, the causes. That our State was 
yet only some seventy-five years old—and, of course, there would 
be much which was wild and uncultivated, and even ungovefned in 
parts of it. But these stories, which I saw in the German press, 
were much exaggerated. Crime, and lawlessness, and rioting, in all 
the old States of our Union, were as rare, as in the best governed 
countries of Europe. I appealed to the value of private and pub¬ 
lic property with us, as an evidence. I spoke of the most striking 
fact, that with the exception of Russia, ours was the only civilized 
government, which was undisturbed in the convulsions of 1848. 
This personality of the press was an evil—perhaps a necessary 
evil—yet it was much worse in appearance, than reality. Nobody 



422 


SOCIAL LIFE IN GERMANY. 


cared much for it. I described too, the general intelligence and 
happy condition of all classes. “ Possibly we may fail, yet,” said I; 
“ there are many dangers before us. Still our success thus far has 
been beyond all expectation, and these evils are slight to the bless 
ings.” 

They were softened by my admissions, and allowed in return, 
gloomily enough, the old, long-fastened defects and evils of their 
own society. “ Yes, yes. Die Zukunft ist fur Sie ! The Future is 
with you /” 

In taking leave, the lady who “ wanted Kossuth’s head,” asked 
me very politely to call upon her husband, Gen.-, and the con¬ 

servative banker recommended himself am freundlichsten , most 
cordially, and my host could not repeat enough “ Unterthanigster 
Diener /” I returned to my lodgings to make preparations for my 
approaching departure for Hungary. 


“ The Future is with you !”—how often have I heard it in 
Germany ! What a sad story does it tell for the poor old World ! 
It speaks of a Past, sown with injustices and wrongs, and contempt 
of human rights, and disdain of the hopes and the sufferings of mul¬ 
titudes of men, ripening fast into a Present of degradation, anarchy, 
and fierce, defying passions. 

It tells the same old sad story of human Tyranny, and its curses 
and ills sent on to distant times; of Injustice heaped up year after 
year, till man can no longer bear; of the evil deeds of one age 
laying up retribution terrible for another. The Present so poisoned, 
that even the Future hath no hope ! 

Poor Europe! I have seen thy sufferings and experienced some 




THE FUTURE 


423 


thing of the despotism which has crushed thee ; and here, at home 
again, in a land, uncursed by the vices and wrongs of the Past, 
with a youth opening before it, glorious and beautiful—save one 
shadow, which He shall surely remove—as that pictured by the old 
Greek dreamers for their “ Ideal State,” I can pray from the heart, 
“ A better Future for thee !” 

May it no longer be, The Future is with America !” but “ Thb 
Future is with Humanity!” 








































































- 








* • 






- - 


































































































ca 

* 














* 





















# - ' ' >: ‘ 

* * • , ' fl - . * | 


* ^ H\ - l : - • . • 










































































APPENDIX. 


THE GERMAN TARIFF UNIONS* 

No. I* — The Zollverein. 

The most important financial question which has ever agitated Cen¬ 
tral Europe, that of the German Tariff Unions, is scarcely known in our 
country, except by name. I propose, in as brief a manner as possible, 
to make the matter clearer to American readers, by presenting facts. 

Every one of the thirty-four States of Germany, had, until 1818, con¬ 
sidered it the first condition of its existence, to separate itself from 
every other State, by heavy protective duties. Even different provinces 
of the same kingdom, were barred by Tariffs. Every city had its Cus¬ 
tom-houses ; and the rivers seemed lines intended by nature for collect¬ 
ing revenue duties. The celebrated Vienna Congress, which met in 
1815 to give unity and freedom to Germany, devoted one article of the 
Constitution, then drawn up, to this difficulty. • 

They premise (Art. XIX,) “ at the first assembly of the League In 

* For the sources of thes statistics, I refer to the following : 1. “Hubner’s Jahrbuch 
fur Yolks wirthschaft, &c., 1852.” 2. “ Vergleichende Zusammenstellung der Grenz- 

Eingangs—Abgaben in Oesterreich, &c., von Reden, 1848.” 3. “ FQr und wieder Scbuz 
zolle, 1848.” 4. “ Die Seg nungen des Zollvereins. 1852.” 5. “Statistiche Uebersicht, &c., 
yon Kotelmann, 1852.” 6. “Die Krisis des Zollvereins, &c., von Dr. Rau, 1852.” 7. “ Der 
September vortrag, &c., in Hanover, 1852.” 8. “Zur handels politischen Frage, 1852.” 
9. “Dieterici's Statistische Uebersicht, 1846-1848.” 10. “Die Zollconferenz zn Wien, 

1852.” 11. “ DieZoll conferenz zu Berlin,” 



426 


APPENDIX. 


Frankfort, to take into consideration, the question of commerce and 
traffic between the different States of the League.” 

This, like all the efforts of that body for the good of Germany, ended 
in words. At length, in 1818, Prussia passed a law removing all duties 
between its various provinces ; promising only such protection to ex¬ 
ports as would secure home industry and provide a revenue for the 
State, without burdening trade. Any foreign country granting privi¬ 
leges of commerce to the Prussian subjects, should be met with an equal 
return. The duties on foreign manufactures should never exceed ten 
j per cent, of their value ; and this “ Freedom of Trade ” should be the 
basis of future legislation. 

The effect of the System, thus established, was so favorable to Prussia, 
that in 1828, the Grand Duchy of Hesse, and in 1831, the Princedom 
of Hesse, united with her in a Commercial Union. During the same 
years, a Union was formed (1828) between Bavaria and Wiirtemberg, 
and (1833) a Union, called the Thuringian, between some of the smaller 
States. All these associations were thus far on the basis of low duties, 
while Austria and other States held to the high protective system. 

The Prussian Union soon surpassed all its rivals. It was found to 
offer a securer and larger market to those who would join it, than any 
other single League. Its scale of duties appeared judiciously contrived, 
so as to stimulate industry. It commanded all the outlets to the North 
Sea—and the privileges held out to the other provinces, were remark¬ 
ably favorable. 

In 1833, both of the last mentioned unions were merged into the 
Prussian, and the Treaty was formed, which is at the basis of the pre¬ 
sent German Tariff-Union, or Zollverein. 

According to this treaty, there shall be a common system of trade 
and revenue between the States of the Union. All native productions 
shall pass the line of each, free of duty, with the exception of (1) certain 
articles, liable to a home-tax; (2) those competing with objects already 
patented, in other States; or (3) two monopolies specified —salt and 
“playing cards. Foreign imports pass without duty. On all exports and 



APPENDIX. 


427 


imports, a similar tariff is laid throughout the Union ; and the revenue 
everywhere from these sources, is divided among the different States, 
according to their population. A meeting of the deputies from the 
Union shall be held annually, and the present treaty shall be binding 
till 1842. If no announcement is made at least two years before this 
period, it shall be extended for twelve years more. 

This engagement, however, shall be considered to be dissolved, if, in 
the mean time, the united German States, according to Art. XIX, form 
a commercial league, which shall fulfill all the objects of the present 
Union. 

To this treaty various additions were made at the entry of Saxony, 
Brunswick, Lippe, and other provinces. In 1841, it was formally re¬ 
newed for twelve years, till 1853, and various needful articles annexed. 
All these changes have in general tended to promote a greater freedom 
of trade between the several provinces. The standards for weight and 
measure are more carefully fixed ; the taxes on home products limited 
to certain definite articles, as spirit and malt liquor, tobacco, and the 
like ; and the internal commerce in foreign goods, which have entered 
by the custom-houses of the Union, is made free of all restraint. A 
separate provision is also passed, with reference to the tax on beet- 
sugar as a home product, and to protective duties, to be laid on foreign 
sugars and syrups. 

The Union formed under these various treaties, embraced in 1849, 
the following States and population : 


Prussia . 


Hesse (Princedom).. 


Luxemberg . 


Hesse (Grand Duchy) . 

. 862,917 

Bavaria . 


Thuringian Union. 


Saxony . 


Brunswick. 

... . 247,070 

W urtemberg . ... 


Nassau . 


Ra/Iati . 

. 1,360,599 

Frankfort (on the Maine) . . . 



Total population ... 




The peaceful continuance of this Union is a thing quite unexampled 
















428 


APPENDIX. 


in Germany. Scarce any one, among the many German Unions, for 
various objects, has ever lived so long and so peacefully. 

The high-sounding principles, however, in which it was based, have 
many of them been dropped. Instead of the Free Trade, to which the 
German Tariff-Union should eventually lead, duties have been laid on 
some articles, almost prohibitive. The privileges granted by foreign 
countries have never been answered. And there is scarcely a foreign 
import, the duty on which does hot exceed ten per cent. Even internal 
trade is much impeded by the duties on liquors, tobacco and salt. 

Among the changes in the Tariff are the following : 

Cotton Web (1843-5) from 2 Th. per cwt. to 3 Th., or from 5 5-19 per cent up to about 
8 per cent duty. 

Cotton Yarn from 5 per cent, up to about 8} per cent duty. 

Lmen Thread .—Duty raised from 1 Th. (75 cents) per cwt. up to 4 Th. ($3). Price 
per cwt. 60 Th. (1847). 

SiHc.—Duty raised from 6 Th. to 8 Th. per cwt Price 600 Th. per cwt 

Woollen Goods.—From 30Th. to 50 Th. per cwt, or from a duty of 33$ per cent, to 50 
per cent 

Iron .—Till 1844 pig-iron was free, and bar-iron paid 1 Th. per cwt Since then, pig-iron 
pays $ Th., or 33$ per cent., and bar-iron from 1$ Th. to 2 Th.; that is, a duty of 50 to 66# 
per cent 

Segara .—Duty raised from 11 Th. to 15 Th. 

Zino Wares .—From 3# Th. to 10 Th. 

Paper— Gilt Paper, &c., from 5 Th. to 10 Th. 

It will be seen from this, that the present tariff of the Zollverein is 
not at all, in the important articles, based on low duties. Since the 
years 1843 and ’44, it has been a high protective system. The average 
of duties upon all manufactured articles would far exceed that of the 
American Tariff of 1846. 

We propose, as a specimen of the success of the protective system of 
Europe, to briefly set forth the progress of the Zollverein since 1835. 

The object to which the Government has especially devoted itself, 
in a financial respect, is the encouragement of the beet sugar manu¬ 
facture. 



APPENDIX. 


429 


For this purpose, a duty on refined Sugar was laid in 1840 of nearly 
100 per cent.; and on raw Sugar of more than 100 per cent, for com¬ 
mon use, and of about 70 per cent, for the manufactories. 

On the former, the amount of revenue from the duties sank from 
279,754 thalers in 1836 to 14,580 in 1850. 

Raw Sugar yielded in 1837 only 5,067 thalers, and has since sunk to 
1,080 thalers in its import duties. 

The quantity imported has diminished of refined, from 38,888 cwt. in 
1836, to 1,905 cwt. in 1851; and of raw, from 1,064,998 cwt. to 781,503. 
The internal production of Beet Sugar has grown from 25,000 cwt. to 
736,215. Yet with all this immense tax upon the foreign article, the 
consumption of Sugar, for every purpose, during these fourteen years, 
has only increased from 1,032,418 cwt. up to 1,356,722 in 1851, or from 
an average of 4.04 lbs. to each inhabitant up to 4.52 ; the population 
having grown from twenty-five and a half millions to nearly thirty mil¬ 
lions. A most manifest failure and loss, so far as this attempt to’ bol¬ 
ster up the home-manufacture of Beet Sugar is concerned. 

As a mere question of revenue, too, it has equally proved a losing 
operation. The whole amount of taxes and duties on imported and do¬ 
mestic Sugars fell from an average of 6.26 sgr. (about 15£ cents) per 
head in 1838, ’39 and ’40, to 4.63 sgr. (about 11 cents) per head in 
1851; though the tax on home Sugar, (from the beet,) had been raised 
to six times its original amount during those years. 

The whole production of Beet Sugar in the Zollverein, from 1840 to 
1850, has amounted to 3,727,480 cwt.; the taxes on this for the ten 
years to 3,946,495 thalers. 

The established duties on the same quantity of Cane Sugar would 
have amounted to 18,647,400 thalers, leaving a deficit in this financial 
operation to the Treasury of 14,700,905 thalers, or of about $12,000,000 
for ten years. This, be it remembered, not counterbalanced in any de¬ 
gree by the additional cheapness of Sugar to the people. As for the 
employment given to home-labor, it may be doubted whether more labor 
has been engaged in the manufacture of Beet Sugar, than was formerly 



430 


APPENDIX. 


in the importation and exchange of Cane Sugar; while against this 
must be balanced the loss of the Colonial market for German linens, 
which were given in exchange for the Sugar, aad besides, this immense 
taxation for ten years, which, in some form, must come out of the 
pockets of the people. 

Iron .—The article of Iron is a no less plain instance of the bad re¬ 
sults of the protective system of the Zollverein. The last fifteen years 
have been remarkably favorable to the manufacture of Iron. Twenty- 
five hundred miles of railroads have been built during that time in the 
Tariff-Union of Prussia. There has been through the world a rapid 
progress in all the mechanic arts. From 1834 up to 1844, Pig Iron 
was admitted duty free, and the consumption of it through the whole 
Zollverein increased from 2,492,736 cwt. up to 6,629,736, or from 
11.60 lbs. to 21.46 lbs. per head of the whole population—a gain of 
about 90 per cent. 

After the placing a new duty on Pig Iron, and raising the duty on 
Bar-Iron, in 1844, the consumption, for all purposes, fell, in the first 
three years, to 16.37 lbs. per head, or 24 per cent; in the second, to 
14.55 lbs., or about 30 per cent. There is every probability that the 
home manufacture of Bar-Iron would have fallen off still more, had not 
the Belgian Pig-Iron, by a special exception, been admitted, in 1845, 
on a duty of 16 per cent., when all other Pig-Iron paid nearly 100 per 
cent. The manufacture of both Pig-Iron and Bar-Iron reached their 
ultimum in 1847, and has been falling off .since, Bar-Iron rising from 
1,534,558 cwt., in 1834, to over 4,000,000 in 1847, and falling again to 
3,429,054 in 1850. The price of Iron in the Union through all these 
years, despite the immense protection, have varied with the English 
prices, and have only in a slight degree been cheapened. The 1,000 lbs 
Bar-Iron cost, in 1834, $37 50 ; in 1840, $41 50 ; in 1847, $39 25 ; 
in 1850, $34. 

In the first three years of the Zollverein, English Bar-Iron cost 78 
per cent, less than the Prussian; in the last triad, it cost 110 per cent 
less. 



APPENDIX. 


431 


So much for the economy of “ Protection ” for Iron in the Zoll 
verein. 

Coffee -—The duties upon this article have averaged 79 per cent.,and 
are now about 50 per cent. Its use both for home-consumption and 
export, may fairly be considered one test in such a people as the Ger¬ 
man, of material prosperity. The import in the Tariff Union in 1836 
was about 547,000 cwt.; in 1850, about 733,000. The export in 1836, 
43,242 cwt.; in 1850, 49,129, or in all, the average per head in 1836, 
1.96 lbs.; in 1850, 2.28 lbs. A poor advance, if this heavy duty be 
considered. 

Cotton .—Raw cotton has been duty free. Cotton thread has ave¬ 
raged a duty of 2J per cent. Cotton goods pay now from 33£ to 50 per 
cent. The importation of raw cotton has advanced from 175,377 cwt. 
in 1834, to 494,298 cwt. in 1850. The increase of imports over ex¬ 
ports in cotton yarn and goods has been from 195,728 cwt. in 1834, 
up to 545,283 in 1845, and has then sunk to 492,640 cwt. in 1850. 

Silk .—The duty upon Silk has also been small, averaging about 
51 per cent; though now upon Silk goods it varies from 5 to 10 per 
cent. The German manufacturers have had to contend not only with 
the great experience of the French operations, but with the protection 
of the French Government; an export premium of 4£ per cent, being 
offered to the French manufacturers by the State. Yet the exports of 
Silk goods from the Zollverein exceeded the imports in 1837 by 3,079 
cwt., and in 1850, 5,540 cwt. ; and the use of silks for all purposes in¬ 
creased from 3,890 cwt. in 1837 to 7,050 in 1850. 

Woolen Goods .—Not so close estimates can be made in regard to 
these. The duty on Woolen Yarn has not averaged quite 2 per cent. 
The duties now on Woolen goods vary from 20 to 50 per cent. Coarse 
Wool is duty free. There has been in general an improvement under 
the Zollverein, though not important. The whole production of W ool 
in 1841 was 443,451 cwt.; in 1847, 446,933. The use of Woolen Yarn 
for all purposes in 1841 and ’43 averaged in the Union 1.17 lbs. per 
head ; in 1844 and *47,1.07 lbs—a falling off of about 8.5 per cent. 



432 


APPENDIX. 


In Linen Goods, owing to the much greater use of Cotton Cloths, 
and to the loss of the colonial market, there has been a diminution. No 
complete statistics are to be obtained. Of rough linen, the export falls 
off from 25,429 cwt. in 1834 to 13,330 in 1850 ; of linen thread, from 
6,338 cwt. to 2,188 in 1850; colored and printed linen falls from 
101,720 cwt. in 1834 to 58,552 in 1850. 

Nearly all other articles of consumption which indicate, in their gene¬ 
ral use, the well-being of a people, have fallen off in quantity since the 
beginning of the Zollverein. 

In the large cities, the average consumption of rye flour falls from 
245 lbs. per head in 1831 to 230 in 1845 ; while, in wheat, the average 
in 1836 of 93.31 lbs. is only 93.3 in 1843, and 99 lbs. in 1845. 

Spices of every kind average 0.18 lbs. per head in 1837, the same in 
'46, and only 0.16 lbs. in 1847. 

The same diminution appears in the use of luxuries—wine, to 
bacco, &c. 

On the whole, from these statistics, one great fact must be clear— 
that the Zollverein, as a high protective system, has not succeeded. 

Since the advance in duties in 1845, there has been a falling off in 
the production of almost every article of importance, and this before the 
disturbances from the revolutionary movements had begun. As a gene¬ 
ral fact, the Union has been most prosperous with the articles not pro¬ 
tected by high duties; yet even in these—as, for instance, the linens— 
the evil effects of'the burdensome duties in other articles have been felt. 
No more striking instance of the bad ecpnomy of high protective or 
rather prohibitive duties can be found, than in the most strenuous and 
expensive efforts made by the Prussian Union to protect their iron and 
sugar manufactures. An immense financial loss and disturbance, as 
these statistics show, have been almost the only result. One branch 
has been bolstered up to the weakening of another. The people have 
paid what was never returned to them in the cheapening of the article; 
the channels of business have been interrupted at the caprice of the 
Government, and endless dislocations and disturbances occasioned, which 



APPENDIX. 


4^3 


no one afterward could guard against or prevent. As a profitable pro¬ 
tective system, the Zollverein must be considered a failure. 


No. II.— The Steuerverein. 

A neighboring and rival Union to the Prussian Zollverein has been 
the Import Union of Hanover. This association—the Steuerverein- 
dates from a Treaty in 1831 with Brunswick, by which portions of that 
State are included under the Hanoverian Tariff system. During the 
succeeding ten years, various small States were added. In 1841, Bruns¬ 
wick, as a whole, retired from the Union and joined the Zollverein. In 
1848, the Steuerverein consisted of the following States and popula¬ 
tion :— 

Hanover, .1,719,857 Provinces of Brunswick. 13,295 

Oldenburg and Knyphausen .... 225,910 Provinces of Prussia . 13,*2£i 

Schaumburg Lippe. 2S,S95 - 

Total.1.997,053 

This Tariff Union was based on low duties, and proved wonderfully 
successful. The revenue from the duties was far greater, in proportion 
to the population, than in the Prussian ; while the average consump¬ 
tion of articles of luxury and comfort equally exceeded that in other 
parts of Germany. 

W e take this table of the average receipts per head from duties, from 
Hubner’s Jafirbuch, p. 210. The Sgr. is a groschen, equal to about 2J 
eents: 


Zollverein. Steuerverein. 
Sgr. Sgr. 


1837-38.21.4 249 

1841-42.24.7 81.6 

1342-43.25.8 27.9 

1844-45. 28.3 80.6 

19 


Zollverein. Steuerverein. 
Sgr. Sgr. 


1846-47.28.2 80.3 

1848- 49.23.5 28.5 

1849- 50.246 81.3 
















434 


APPENDIX. 


The following is a table of the average consumption per head : 

Zollverein. Steuerverein. ZoUverein Steuerterem. 


lbs. lbs. lba - 

Coffee .15.10 20.25 Wine . 2.85 1T.05 

Eico . 3.45 8.30 Sugar and Syrup -28.85 41.60 

Tropical Fruits. 2.75 5.30 Iron for rail-roads-37.00 42.00 

Tea .10 1.05 Iron for other objects. .77.40 110.00 


The following abstract will show some of the relative duties in the 
two Tariff Unions and in Austria. It is taken from a semi-official doc¬ 
ument called, “ A Comparison of the Boundary Import Duties, See., 
by Beden —Frankfort, 1848.” The Thaler is worth about 75 cents : 



Austria. 

Zollverein. 

Steuerverein. 


Th. 

Sgr. 

Th. Sgr. 

Th. 

Sgr. 

Cotton, per cwt . 


1* 

free. 

free. 


Cotton yarn. 


81 

3 

1 


Cotton goods. 


27* 

50 

12 


Bar iron, per cwt. . 


22* 

8 

1 

0* 

Steel . 


22* 

1 15 

0 

7 

Iron works, fine. 


15 

10 

6 

4 

Glass, gilded. 


* 

10 

6 

4 

Copper wares, per cwt. 


15 

10 

6 

4 

Leather goods. 


14* 

22 

12 

8 

Linen, fino . 


12* 

20 

12 

7* 

Kaw Sugar, per cwt. 


10 

8 

3 

10 

Silk goods. 


8* 

110 

12 

7* 

Woolon goods, fino. 


17* 

50 

12 

7* 


To all familiar with the prosperity of Hanover under this low Tariff 
system, the announcement was very surprising that she had formed 
(September, 1851) a Treaty with Prussia, and would henceforth be a 
part of the Zollverein. For this movement, political much more than 
financial reasons were the cause. Austria was at this time pressing 
strongly on Prussia her demands for a universal German Tariff Union. 
It was to be based on her favorite system of high protective duties. If 
she succeded, Hanover would inevitably be forced later into the Union, 
and become involved in an association which might ruin her commerce. 
It was better for her to take the Prussian protective duties than the 





















APPENDIX. 


435 


Austrian prohibitive Prussia, too, offered her flattering inducements 
in the scale of division of the revenues. 

For Prussia herself, it was a vital measure. In two years, the term 
of the Zollverein would expire, and if notice of a change were not now 
given, she was bound to the Union till 1865. The South German 
members were becoming more and more attached to Austria. Cassel, 
who ruled the connection between her provinces, was already under 
heavy obligations to the Viennese Ministry. They might be enabled, 
in the coming years, to force her to a financial Union with Austria. 

In a commercial view, it was vastly more important that she should 
be united with Hanover, than with all South Germany together. In 
alliance with the Steuerverein, she would secure the connection between 
her Eastern and Western provinces—the great road by Magdeburg 
from Berlin to Cologne; she would hold possession of all the great 
rivers in the North, and gain a speedy outlet to the sea through the 
Hanoverian ports. 

It will give an idea of the losses for Hanover in this measure, to com¬ 
pare the costs of certain articles under the two Unions. 

For a ship of 700 tons, 731 cwt. of iron are reckoned, according to 
the Lloyd’s estimate, necessary for anchors, chains, &c., in the outfit. 
These cost in Hanover, inclusive of freight and duty, 3,000 thalers. In 
Prussia, 7,000 thalers—or a difference of $3,000 which Hanover must 
pay under the Prussian Tariff. If imported direct, ready-made from 
England, they cost in the Steuerverein 260 thalers. In the Zollverein, 
2,348 thalers. Iron knees cost for one such ship, in Prussia, 1,900 
thalers ; in Hanover, 74*0 thalers—a difference of 160 per cent, against 
the latter. Iron nails cost 100 per cent, more in the Prussian than the 
Hanoverian Union. 

The treaty is to come into operation on Jan. 1,1854, and shall ex¬ 
tend to December 31,1865. 

Should the present Zollverein be dissolved by the retiring of the 
outh German States, the new Union, in connection with Hanover, 
mid consist of twelve different States, and 20,330,000 inhabitants. 



436 


APPENDIX. 


No. III.— The Austrian Union. 

Austria has always been a constant friend to high Protective Tariffs. 
In Maria Theresa’s time, the importation of all goods, which could 
possibly be manufactured in the country, was forbidden. The theory 
of commerce being that the gold which was carried out from the Aus¬ 
trian States was so much loss. In consequence, even on tropical 
productions and “ colonial wares,” the highest possible duties were 
laid. 

When the Empire was reconstructed after the fall of Napoleon, the 
same system was continued and extended by the Emperor Francis. 
Nothing prospered under this mediaeval policy, and attempts were made 
in 1835 to reform it. They failed ; and until 1848, the only changes 
were the removal of some prohibitive duties, to be replaced by exorbi¬ 
tantly high protective duties; and the lowering of the taxes on colonial 
goods, as it was found that the smuggling defied all the precautions of 
Government. In addition to this “ Protective Tariff,” the State 
enjoyed a monopoly of salt, tobacco, and gunpowder. At the close 
of the war with Hungary, the Austrian Government issued various 
“ memorials ” with reference to a change of their Tariff-system, and a 
Union with Germany. 

In the memorial of December 30,1849, the Ministry declare that they 
“ recognize it as a need of the public administration to pass over from 
a prohibitive to a protective system, and to prepare thereby a nearer 
connection with Germany.” 

Various communications and negociations were entered upon with the 
other States of Germany for this same object—a Tariff Union—but 
without much success. At length, the news went over Germany of 
the sudden union of the Zollverein with Hanover, and of the invitations 
to a “ Conference ” at Berlin, to consider this matter of a universal 
German Kevenue Union. Almost at the same time, (November 25, 



APPENDIX. 


43* 


1851, ) the Austrian Government put forth a new Tariff, and an invita¬ 
tion to a general conference in January, 1852, at Vienna, for the same 
purpose. Of the Tariff, I shall have more to say hereafter. In this 
Assembly at Vienna, six States of the Zollverein met—Bavaria, Sax¬ 
ony, Wiirtemberg, Baden, the Hesses, and Nassau. Prussia, and the 
remainder, together with the Mecklenburgs and Holstein, declined all 
share in the proceedings. 

The six States above mentioned held a separate Convention (April, 

1852, ) in Darmstadt, in which, after various resolves, they conclude that 
if Austria will pledge them their Tariff revenues in the interval, they 
will enter into no new relations with the Zollverein until 1853, when 
the negociations now in process between the Austrian Government and 
that Union will be terminated. 

For Austria, this question of the Tariff Union is more than a finac 
cial question. 

Among the pamphlets and works qnoted at the beginning of these 
articles is one recognized by the Prussian press, as a semi-official Aus¬ 
trian document—“ Die Zoll-conferenz zu Wien.” (The Tariff Con¬ 
vention at Vienna. In this work the whole subject is argued with an 
earnestness, such as no matter of revenue would ever call forth. It is 
a basis-principle of the Austrian policy that Austria, as a whole, mus- 
be united with Germany. As long as Hungary and her Italian pro¬ 
vinces are separated from her German, so long the Empire is not secure. 
But, incorporated in the German League, she has all Germany pledged 
to support her, and to put down insurrections. 

Schwarzenberg’s unceasing efforts to bring Hungary and Italy into 
the German Union have failed—France and England have protested 
and Prussia has steadily opposed. 

What could not be done on the political ground, perhaps can be on 
the financial. The great aim of Austria now is to make the Empire and 
Germany one in revenue. Every motive which could reach Prussian 
pride, and honor, and interest, is employed in the above Brochure. 

To the enthusiastic lovers of German unity, the picture of a united 



438 


APPENDIX. 


Fatherland is presented—when Germans shall have one Tariff and one 
revenue ; when a common scale of duties shall hold at Hamburg and 
at Yenice; from Stralsund and Bremen to the “Iron Gate” of Hun¬ 
gary, and the coast of the Adriatic. The conservatives are warned ol 
the immense unoccupied class of laborers which Free Trade shall pro¬ 
duce—rabble—the fomentors of revolution and outbreaks. The Free 
Traders are told that at present their theory is only an “ideal,”—and 
that they will act the rational part, to promote Free Trade at home, as 
a preparation for Free Trade abroad. If English iron and French silks 
are admitted free, all the laborers in those branches in the Zollverein 
must become paupers, and their support be thrown on the agricultural 
classes. 

In union with Hanover and North Germany, Prussia must be drawn 
into this destructive policy of Free Trade. The inhabitants of her 
northern provinces, and of the coasts of the Baltic and the German 
Ocean, will always have an ineradicable prejudice in favor of cheap iron 
and cheap manufactures from England. They will drink French wines, 
if they are lower than Austrian ; and they can never be induced to pre¬ 
fer dear colonial goods for the sake of building up manufactures in 
Vienna. 

For her manufactures, Prussia will have an almost boundless market 
in Hungary, while that country in return will pour forth her corn and 
wine into Germany. By this Union, thirty-eight millions of men will 
be added to the Zollverein, of which twenty millions shall be pure con¬ 
sumers. At present, says the Brochure, 30,000,000 thalers are carried 
away annually by the emigrants to America. 

Under a universal German Tariff Union, Hungary would again revive 
in prosperity, and something of this great export of men and money 
would be turned towards her unoccupied lands to aid again in the well¬ 
being of the Fatherland. 

Prussia is reminded of a recent season, when human beings were 
dying by the thonsands from famine in Silesia, and just over the Aus¬ 
trian border, corn was in plenty. If these scenes would be avoided, let 



APPENDIX. 


431 


there be a removal of all frontier duties, and the wheat from the Da¬ 
nube and Bohemia will be exchanged for the products of the weavers 
of the Harz, and of Eastern Prussia. 

Finally, as the best guard against future “ democratic outbreaks," 
wili be the union of the German Governments,—even only for matters 
of finance and revenue. 

On the part of Prussia, there had been three great objections to a 
Tariff Union with Austria:—1. The Austrian monopolies; 2. The diffi¬ 
culties of the united revenues ; and 3. The Austrian finances. 

In reply, the authors of this document promise, almost officially, that 
the Government will waive their monopoly in tobacco, if Prussia in¬ 
sists, and urge that at the worst, this and salt will only be liable to the 
same conditions, with the two present monopolies—salt and playing 
cards—of the Zollverein. 

As regards the division of the Tariff revenues, the writers do not 
claim that it should be made according to population, whereby of course 
Austria would gain a great advantage. They propose to leave a 
“ Transition-period ” of four years from January 1854 to December, 
1858, for the gradual change of duties, during which the average of 
revenues from each province may be calculated, and the division made 
accordingly. 

In the finances, the Government for the first time abandons its old 
position. Hitherto the Government paper has always been considered 
to be at par value. Even when 33 per cent, below its exchange value, 
by a legal fiction, it has been given as at par for all taxes, revenues, 
duties, &c., &c. Soldiers have even penetrated the Exchange, and the 
gens d’armes have examined the books of the brokers, as if Austrian 
bank paper could be driven up at the point of the bayonet. In the 
proposed Union, the ministry admit that the Government paper shall 
pass at all Custom-houses and offices, for its average worth by the cur¬ 
rent month in the Exchange at Augsburg. 

Of the articles which shall be free of all duties in this Union, are 
mentioned, the raw products of the field, garden, forest, and the mines; 



440 


APPENDIX. 


certain materials for manufacture, as dye-woods, sulphur, potash, salt¬ 
petre ; certain manufactures, as raw silk, rough linen yarn, pack-thread, 
sail-cloth, straw and basket goods of common kind; cheap wood, brick 
and porcelain-wares ; and books, pictures and cards on paper manu¬ 
factured in the Union. 

Most of these articles, it should bo mentioned, were already free in 
the Prussian Union. In addition, wine is to pay 3 thlr. ($2 25) per 
centner; Iron 7i sgr. (18 cents) per cwt. These are all the propo¬ 
sitions, thus far made by the Austrian Government. 

We will now briefly compare the Austrian and Prussian Tariffs, as 
showing the change which the Zollverein must make to enter the Aus¬ 
trian Union: 


PRUSSIAN TARIFF. 


AUSTRIAN TARIFF. 



Thlr. 


Thlr. 


Cotton Goods . 


Cotten Goods, 13*, 83* 50, 66*, 100 


Linen „ 

....1, 20, 80 and 60 

ft 

and 166* per cwt. 

Silk „ . 

.55 and 110 

ft 

Linen „ 5, 13*, 50, 66* and 


Woolen „ 


tt 

166* 

tt 

Leather and Leather Goods, 6, 8, 


Silk „ . 166* and 400 

tt 


10 and 22 

tt 

Woolen „ 8*, 83*, 50, 66*, 100 


lion Wares ... 


tt 

and 166* 

ft 




Leather and Leather Goods, 5,10, 





16*, 33*, and 66* 

»» 




Iron Wares, 1*, 3*, 6*, 10, and 16* 

ft 


The Austrian Tariff, whose rates are here given, is to come into ope¬ 
ration in January, 1854. It is distinguished from the Prussian, by 
grades of duties, proportioned to the fineness of the article ; so that on 
almost all of the commonest manufactures the Austrian duty is lower, 
though its average of duties is much higher. 

In the event of a Union between the Zollverein and Austria, tht 
principal exports from the latter to Prussia, will be the following . 
Bohemian glass, steel and iron wares, shawls, leather gloves, book 
binders’ goods, porcelain and earthen wares, silk webs from Milan, Como 
aud Vienna, silver, works of art, cloths and stuffs. The fine table-covers 








APPENDIX. 


441 


from Bohemia and Moravia would compete with those from Saxony and 
Westphalia. Leather, Vienna matches, white lead and fine wood wares 
would be in much demand in the provinces neighboring to Austria on 
the west. Especially would the unequalled Hungarian wines be ex¬ 
ported to every part of Germany. 

Comparison of Products in Zollverein and Austria : 


ZOLLVEREIN. AUSTRIA. 

Thlr. Thlr. 

Iron Wares. 35,200,000 19,200,000 

Glass Manufactures. 8,500,000 10,500,000 

Sum of all manufacture in mineral and metallic sub¬ 
stance, glass, copper, iron, &c., &c. 172,200,000 110,450,000 

Cotton, Spinning . 8,200,000 9,600,000 

Wool „ 29,600,000 22,200,000 

Flax „ 58,000,000 31,200,000 

Cotton, Weaving. 67,800,000 81,200,000 

Wool „ 61,200,000 48,000,000 

Linen „ 94,800,000 45,000,000 

Silk. 23,690,000 11,700,000 

Total. 250,490,000 135,900,000 

ZOLLVEREIN. AUSTRIA. 

ThJ,r, Thlr. 

Leather and leather goods. 42,400,000 27,000,000 

Paper . 15,700,000 4,920,000 

Material for literary business of all kinds . 14,750,000 4,200,000 

Sum of all manufactures . 642,340,000 878,060,000 


Zollverein. 
Austria . . 


STEAM ENGINES. 

For Navigation. 

.93 

.63 


Railroads. Manufactures. 
4S0 1,519 

240 464 


For all purposes. Horse power 

Zollverein . 2,097 63.425 

Austria . M0 241,84 


19* 
























442 


appendix. 


SPINDLES AND LOOMS. 


ZOLLVfBBm. 


AUSTRIA. 


Spindles. Looms. Spindles. Looms. 


Cotton . 902,030 160,000 1,267,980 178,000 

Wool. 750,000 60,000 650,000 56,000 

Linen . 50,000 450,000 20,800 300,000 

gilk . 14,000 . 11,800 


Total. 1,702,030 684,200 1,938,780 545,800 


In the quality and general value of her manufactures, Austria is far 


inferior to the Prussian Union. In the cheapness, however, of the 
coarsest and most common articles, as coarse cutlery, coarse linen, cot¬ 
ton bagging and cloths, stockings, &c., she is superior—a fact due in 
part to the very low rate of wages for operatives in that Empire. 

In iron manufacture and machine spinning both Unions are weak. 

In wool carding and flax spinning (by machine) Austria falls behind, 
while in cotton spinning she is superior to her rival. 

In earthenware and porcelain manufacture, the Zollverein leads, while 
in glass manufacture she is inferior again. 

In leather productions the Zollverein stands first, though in a few 
common articles, as ladies’ gloves, gloves, &c., Austria has best suc¬ 
ceeded. 


Austria has been through Europe the great representative of the 
ultra, high protective school, for some thirty years. Her resources 
are immense, both in agriculture and in mineral wealth. She has great 
rivers, roads, railroads, and harbors, one of which has been the leading 
commercial city of the world. We propose briefly to examine the ef¬ 
fects of this system upon her development. 

The worth of the whole produce of the mines, coal, copper, iron, 
gold, silver, &c., &c., has fallen from 10,443,163 florins in 1823, 
and 13,874,213 florins in 1833, to 7,906,901 florins in 1847 ; showing 
in twenty-four years, a loss on the most important articles of production 
of about 33 per cent. 

The use of iron for all purposes averaged before 1848,11 pounds per 












APPENDIX. 


443 


hoad in Austria; in the Zollverein, 21.79 pounds; in England, 94; 
Belgium, 41; France, 34 ; Sardinia, 33. 

An equal attempt with that of the Zollverein to bolster up Beet-Sugar 
manufacture has been made, and with like success. With a heavy duty 
laid upon foreign sugars for about twenty years, sugar is dearer than it 
was before the protection. And for every 200,000 cwt. produced of 
beet and potato sugar, 500,000 cwt. of cane sugar are imported an¬ 
nually. The duty on cane sugar is 7 florins, (33 15) per cwt., and the 
tax on beet sugar 1 florin, (45 cents) so that as a matter of revenue 
merely, the State loses about a million of florins per annum. 

Coffee.— In 1844, the duty on this article was put down, and the 
import has risen from 149,705 cwt. in 1844, to 226,275 cwt. in 1850. 

In products of the soil, the total exports fell from 30,409,356, in 1844, 
to 26,593,500 in 1847, and to 18,924,800 in 1850. 

During the last three years, the diminution in every article of export 
and production has been enormous. But along with the injuries to 
trade from high duties must be reckoned the losses and disturbances 
from their late revolutionary struggles. So that from the latest statis¬ 
tics, no conclusive result can be obtained as regards the question of 
“ Protective Tariffs ” in Europe. Still, enough has already been given, 
in the comparison of the high-protected manufactures and commerce of 
Austria, with the low-tariff system of Hanover, or the medium-pro¬ 
tective system of Prussia, to show that no argument in favor of high 
protection can ever be taken from its success in Germany. Equally in 
the Protestant, liberal Prussia, and the despotic Austria, has the high 
tariff economy failed. And the States of Germany may almost 
measure their commercial and material success by the approach which 
each has made to the policy of Free Trade. 

What the results of these negociations between the Austrian and 
Prussian Tariff Unions will be cannot yet be affirmed. My own belief 
if,, that the Prussian King, scared by the old phantom of revolution, will 
Field to the demands of Austria; and that an Austrian high-protective 
iariflf will cover Germany from one end to the other. 



















■ 









V 




















































, 






























































































































■ 















I 














































